


The Mechanics to Your Heart

by Spaceship0Mile



Series: The Mechanics to Your Heart [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Cameos, Childhood Friends, College, Flashbacks, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, High School, Jealousy, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Pining, Side Ships, Slow Build, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-05-15 17:03:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 60,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14794472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spaceship0Mile/pseuds/Spaceship0Mile
Summary: Donghyuck has a secret, which he keeps in order to live a normal life. However, when his childhood friend who also happens to be the Love of His Life™ starts acting distant in Donghyuck’s freshman year of high school, Donghyuck decides fo reveal his secret to fix their friendship. Instead of becoming closer to Mark like he’d planned, Donghyuck ends up a university student at 16 while Mark remains in high school.Yuta, one of Donghyuck’s roommates who is having a major crisis (he really hates his major), tags along to a study session Donghyuck (innocently) decides to have in the cafe Mark happens to work in. There, Yuta meets a guy with a pair of mocking eyes, which he wants to stay as far away from as humanly possible... But not really.





	1. I Should Have Dumbed Myself Down More!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [UWU_Nation](https://archiveofourown.org/users/UWU_Nation/gifts).



> 95 line are 21 (Technical age, not Korean age) and from there you can calculate everyone else's age since I stuck to the age differences between them in real life.
> 
> The first two chapters will basically be just setting the chatacters and plot then the story begins :3 
> 
> This is my first time doing this asdfghjjll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuta, Haechan, and their friends Ten and Doyoung talk about God, Mark, differential equations, and basically everything except for Yuta's major.

Yuta dropped into his seat at the front of the class, head spinning as he tried to figure out what he was doing here. This would be the beginning of his third semester in business school and his third year of college. He had chosen his major after completing his first year. He was excellent in all his classes, his grades never dropping below an A-. But he could never figure out what it was that compelled him to choose marketing as his major, and perhaps more importantly, he could never understand why he hasn’t changed it to something else, _anything else_. Yuta realized, for the thousandth time, that when it came to academic decisions, he was clueless.

      He had a few minutes before it was time for the lecture to start, so he texted Haechan:

I hate my life

[sent 5:55 PM]

He then locked the phone and stared at his textbook, willing its title to change, to what? He had no clue. His phone buzzed twice and he looked down to find a text from Haechan followed by another one from Ten:

Dongsookie: Good morning to you too and for fuck’s sake change your major and spare us all

[received 5:56 PM]

 

10/10: Yuta change your major or I swear to Jisung, I will change it for you.

[received 5:56 PM]

He texted Ten back, asking him if he was with Haechan, and got a selfie of the two together from Haechan as a reply in their group chat. He was mid-eye roll when the lecture began. He spent the lecture taking notes and ignoring Doyoung, who kept trying to edit his notes as Yuta wrote them while simultaneously taking his own. Yuta used to object to this, but he had long since gotten used to the blur of Doyoung’s pale arm between his own notebook and Yuta’s.

They walked together after class, Yuta drowning out the sound of Doyoung musing on whether or not he should take on a third major, his left hand darting out from inside his pocket to close around his chin in thought. One might assume Doyoung expected him to participate in the now one-sided debate, but Yuta would assume no such thing because Yuta knew Doyoung better than that. So they made their way to the picnic tables outside the Engineering building, where Ten and Haechan were waiting.

Ten and Doyoung were both second year students, Ten majoring in art and Doyoung majoring in both mathematics and mechanical engineering. Haechan was a first year although he was only 16 years old. His major was still undecided, by choice, not necessity. Yuta was certain that if Haechan wanted, he would have gotten his degree by the time he finished his first year at university, if not earlier. Now Haechan was like their younger brother on campus. They all doted on him and somehow felt responsible for him, despite knowing that he was the smartest of the lot. Yuta heard their laughter before he saw them, but it was silenced as soon as they noticed him. Haechan was giving him a pointed look, while Ten just looked pained, Doyoung was still mumbling to himself. To placate them he raised his hands and announced, “I’m not going to complain about my major today.”

Haechan let out a sigh of relief, Ten looked less tense. Doyoung fished one of Yuta’s textbooks out of his leather back bag and one of his own notebooks. In which he started a pros and cons list titled: Third Major???

Haechan, as usual, started the conversation, his soft wavy hair parting as he ran a hand through it, “Who’s joining my study group tomorrow afternoon?” This made Doyoung look up slightly from his list only to say that he was joining and then he dove straight back in. Ten and Yuta would have assumed that they were not included in this conversation, since the study group led by their genius friend was for an engineering class, but they knew Haechan too well for that. The last time Yuta had protested to joining a study group Haechan had taken him aside and questioned him about the motives behind his refusal to join. Yuta has simply stated that he was not taking that class, and so it would not be beneficial to him. Haechan had deemed his answer to be neither relevant nor true. Now Yuta shrugged and said it would be a good chance for him to consider a new major. But he made sure to clarify that this did not mean that he was complaining about his major, and he also clarified that this was not an invitation for them to discuss how it was probably too late for him to change his major even if he somehow ended up finding Differential Equations interesting, which if he was being honest, he very much doubted he would. At this point of his rambling, Ten slapped a palm across Yuta’s mouth much harder than he needed to in order to shut him up. Yuta’s eyes widened as he stared at Ten until he removed his hand from Yuta’s lips. Yuta sat back and sulked, rubbing the lower half of his face. Ten smiled at the silence and said, “Since everyone is going, I’m in!” His smile so bright and sweet, one would not think him capable of inciting so much fear in other’s hearts. Ten suddenly looked at Doyoung’s mad scratching against the notebook and asked Yuta, “How long has he been like this?”

Yuta answered, “Since class ended.”

“Does he really want to take on a third major?” Ten asked, not really expecting an answer. Yuta was sure Doyoung knew they were talking about him and still chose to ignore them. Ten continued, “Shit. Well, you know what they say, TJIF.”

“Alright,” Haechan said, his tone far more serious than it was a moment before, which could only mean one thing. “Mark.”

Upon hearing the name of the Love of Haechan’s Life, Doyoung put his pen down and focused on the conversation. His straight black hair and black button up shirt made his serious eyes all the more intense. Haechan began, “He started a part-time job at a café only a ten minute walk from campus,” he paused to look into the distance, as though he could see the café there. “We will have the study session there.” He finished. The decision already made. Doyoung asked him if Mark was the one to tell him that, the underlying question being whether Haechan had finally mustered up the courage to actually talk to Mark about anything of substance. Haechan shook his head sadly and said that he had found out from Jisung a few days ago. Jisung was Haechan’s younger brother. He and his dance club members had randomly stumbled upon the café after learning a particularly difficult choreo, and he had secretly taken a picture of Mark and sent it to Haechan. Which resulted in Haechan lecturing him about the invasion of other peoples’ privacy and how he can’t just take a picture of whomever he likes and share it without their knowledge. After that, Haechan had saved the picture and used it as his home screen wallpaper. The following day, Haechan was showing Jisung a video of two cows talking about the economy on Youtube when he accidentally pressed the home button and Jisung saw the picture he had taken of Mark. Haechan thought his brother would call him out for it; instead he winked at him and started making kissy faces and Haechan had to tackle him down to make him stop.

Now it was time for Haechan to lament his decision to make his genius known to his teachers, which he thought would help him skip one grade and be a high school senior, like Mark. Instead he accidentally ended up skipping two grades and thereby graduating two years early. His fist met the table, “I should have dumbed myself down more!” Ten patted his hand reassuringly. They were used to his random bursts of regret.

Yuta felt for Haechan, even though he had no romantic issues of his own. The kid was a genius, but he was just that: a kid. He asked, “Will your study session comprise of just the four of us?”

Haechan brightened a bit, “A few other students from one of my engineering classes said they were interested, one of them is a foreign exchange student,” He paused for a moment to look pointedly between Yuta and Ten. “The smart kind.”

Ten looked appalled, “What do you mean the smart kind? Yuta and I are both here because we were given scholarships… _for_ being smart.” Haechan, knowing that Ten was all bark and no bite when it came to his teasing continued, “And another is one of Jisung’s dance club pals.”

“A fourteen year old is joining our study session?” Yuta interjected.

“No, he’s your age, I think, the dance team is all ages, Yuta, God.” Haechan shook his head at Yuta’s careless presumptuousness.

Yuta simply shrugged, “Speaking of, tell your brother to stay out of my phone. He keeps changing his name in my contacts to God Jisung, and if he’s going to get struck down, I’d rather not go down with his hacker ass. Also Ten, please stop encouraging him.”

Ten said, “For Jisung’s sake, don’t tell me what to do.”

“It’s better to just let him do what he wants, trust me.” Haechan advised, putting a hand to his heart, and Doyoung nodded soberly. There had to be a story there that Yuta probably did not want to hear. He got up, “Right then, I’m heading to the gym.”

Ten suddenly turned into a five year old as he repeated, “I’m heading to the gym.” But he said it in an annoyingly high voice that was somehow meant to mirror Yuta’s.

“You could join me.” Yuta said. Ten got up and pushed him away, but lightly. He then called out, “No thanks, don’t need it,” And winked. “See you tonight!”

“Yeah.” Yuta said, hiding his disappointment. He loved his friends, but he wished they shared some of his interests, such as working out and watching anime. The list was brief and that was partly his fault. Maybe he would find new interests soon. Changing his major might help with that…

Nothing made Yuta forget about his major like working out did. He had decided to use the gym’s showers after his workout. He bunched his gym shorts and tank into his bag and let the cold stream of water slide down his sore muscles. He was now dry and back in his half-sleeved white cotton shirt and black jeans. He felt great as he walked from the university’s gym to his dorm. That was, until he ran into the world’s biggest idiot.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this for a friend, and she insisted that I post it so here goes! ^__^


	2. I Melted Because of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Taeyong melts.

Taeyong was so close to the center of the enemy base, so torturously close to obliterating the enemy Nexus. Today was a good day; he had already unlocked most of his abilities, and upgraded them all. Back in the jungle, he had taken down monster after monster like it was nothing. After he took the first turret down without breaking a sweat, his confidence was soaring, which did wonders to his success rate in his next endeavors. He had collected enough gold to drown his enemies in. With his minions around him, he started his attacks on the Nexus turrets. An enemy champion approached, Taeyong’s grin widened dangerously, this was going to be good. He relied on his blood thirst ability, but kept switching between blood thirst and blood price every handful of blows he dealt his enemy. He was losing some blood, but he still decided to take initiative instead of retreating, he was about to use dark flight when his phone buzzed. He tried to ignore it and focus on the battle, but then it started to ring incessantly. He saw Yoonoh’s name on the screen from the corner of his eye and in the moment he spared for the phone, the turrets had melted him, Taeyong sat completely still for some time. Then he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. After that he sighed. Rage started to take a firm hold when his phone started ringing again. He picked up angrily, “I melted because of you.” Yoonoh, on the other end of the line sounded unbothered, “Just use your dark flight or whatever to retreat, listen—” Taeyong interrupted hotly, “I can’t retreat, you’re not paying attention, I melted! It’s taking me 40 seconds to respawn, I was so close Yoonoh, so close!”

      “Aatrox, I’m sorry you melted, but listen to me—”

      “This better be important, you better be—”

      “Hyung.”

      “Fine, I’m listening, what is it?”

      “I need you to meet me, I’m at the Student Affairs building’s main office. Bring the mage.”

      Taeyong hung his head in frustration. Belatedly remembering that Sicheng was asleep in their room. He hoped the closed door between the common room and their room was enough to drown out his voice, or at least to muffle it. He was too peeved to even be curious as to what Yoonoh had done wrong this time. He grudgingly agreed to meet him, though. Yoonoh was his closest friend, and they had been through enough together for Taeyong to always be there for him when he needed him. His champion appeared in the fountain, Taeyong slammed his laptop shut, pulled a purple hoodie over his black shirt and gray sweats, and slid his socked feet into the first pair of shoes his hand landed on in the shoe cabinet they had outside the Common Room. They were Yoonoh’s, he tilted his head to the side for a second, he considered changing into a pair of his own, but decided against it. He liked this pair; comfortable, but still flashy. And Yoonoh owed him.

      When he made it to the main office ten minutes later, he was met with the familiar sight of his best friend with a breathalyzer and a very pissed off looking security guard. The guard looked skeptical, but satisfied when she saw that Yoonoh was, in fact, not drunk, as he had been unconvincingly insisting. She looked at the machine in her hand in distrust and at Yoonoh with barely cloaked disgust, but did not keep him longer. She barely acknowledged Taeyong, but she did spare some of that disgust she felt for the writing on his hoodie: _Sexual Fantasies_. Taeyong ignored her. He was now a bit curious as to what Yoonoh had done this time to earn him a breathalyzer test. Yoonoh knew it was against the rules to be drunk on weekdays on campus, but it hadn’t stopped him before. He now raised his eyebrows at Taeyong before looking at the guard out of the corners of his eyes with an expression of distaste. The way he contorted his features caused two wells to appear in the center of each cheek. This warmed Taeyong’s heart enough to make him forget about the melting incident from earlier. His gaze softened.

      “She kept terrorizing me!” Yoonoh’s voice was coated with venom. They had just left the main office and Yoonoh’s voice was intentionally loud. Taeyong was sure the guard could hear it as it echoed through the halls, he was even more sure that that was Yoonoh’s intention. “‘You knooow you can’t drink on campus, Jung Yoonoh, you knooooow.’ Well, even if I hadn’t known, I wouldn’t be able to forget it with that nasally ass voice of yours ringing through my skull now, would I?” He stopped to take a breath and let it loose quickly, “Where’s the mage?” He said, using a less obnoxious tone.

      “He’s sleeping. Yoonoh, focus, what happened?” They were now out of the Student Affairs building. The air was thick and warm. Taeyong regretted wearing the hoodie. He felt stifled by the heat, which was not good for his temper. He pulled the hood off his head, he was sure his hair was sticking out at odd angles because he had his big headphones on earlier, but there was no one around. Well, no one other than Yoonoh, and Yoonoh had seen him in much worse states than this.

      “I was trying to get some snacks from the vending machine—” He stopped when Taeyong groaned. He swore one day Yoonoh was going to break one of those things and the three of them would have to gather every last scrap they had to pay for it. “Didn’t I tell you to leave those things alone? Why didn’t you just go to the convenience store for snacks?”

“I was on my way back to the dorm, the convenience store was in the opposite direction.” Taeyong’s anger had returned full swing, “It’s a three minute walk Yoonoh, I’m sure you had some energy left to spare after swim practice.” Yoonoh rolled his eyes, “Do you want to hear what happened or not?” Taeyong remained silent, eyes straight ahead as they walked back to their dorm.

“Okay so, after I set my eyes on the snacks I wanted, I realized that I didn’t have enough money on me. That was when the loaded guy walked past me.”

“Loaded guy?” Taeyong interrupted.

“Please, hyung, stop interrupting,” Yoonoh begged. “The guy looked loaded, but he didn’t have any cash on him, or so he claimed when I asked.” He clenched his jaw and pursed his lips, which wasn’t fair. Taeyong focused on the gravel under his feet again. This made Yoonoh look down too, “Are those my shoes?” He asked.

“What happened next?” Taeyong said, ignoring the question.

“Okay, right, so I asked him if he minded helping me out. He just stood there narrowing his eyes at me and looking judgmental. I thought maybe he couldn’t understand me so I wanted to show him how to help. I started demonstrating.” Taeyong groaned, pushing the heels of his palms against his closed lids, but Yoonoh just carried on. “I started by shoving the machine, then gave it a few good kicks, at this point the guard had already noticed me, but I guess she kept watching from a distance to see if I would actually break it, which, trust me, she wanted me to do. God, she hates my guts I bet she was hiding in the bushes like a creep… or a small rodent—”

“Yoonoh.”

“Right, so the guy kept calling me stupid in Japanese and I told him that I could understand what he was saying.” He waited a bit as though he expected Taeyong to show a sign on sympathy, when he realized that that was not going to happen, the corners of his lips dipped slightly but he continued. “He didn’t seem to care though, as he kept telling me how insanely idiotic he found my behavior, all the while maintaining that judgmental expression.

“That was when the guard decided to intervene, I guess she was getting bored in that bush, she told us both to come with her. The Japanese dude, suddenly fluent in Korean, kept insisting that he did nothing wrong, but she wanted him to come along anyway. Get this, when we walked into the office I noticed that his hair was blue!” He said, his tone rising as though that was supposed to hold significance. Taeyong just stared blankly. Yoonoh clarified, “for someone so judgmental he sure has weird taste…” Taeyong made a noncommittal sound, hoping Yoonoh would just carry on, which he did after letting out a defeated sigh. “Anyway, the guard just wanted his side of the story, I called you while he told her that I was the world’s biggest idiot, in my own language this time. I decided to call you because I wanted to punch him so bad. The guard let him go before you got here though. And I stayed calm until you arrived. That’s it.” Adorable dimples appeared in his cheeks as he smiled. “Are you proud of me?”

“Am I… Yoonoh, are you seriously asking me if I’m proud of you for beating up a vending machine in front of another student and then refraining from beating him up after he called you stupid, which quite frankly, you are?”

“You’re heartless.”

“I was on fire, I was about to destroy the enemy Nexus and you distracting me let the turret _melt_ me.”

“You were on fire anyway.”

“What?”

“Never mind.”

Taeyong took off Yoonoh’s shoes and placed them back into the cupboard. Once in the dorm, he declared that he was going to bed and that Yoonoh owed him big time. He gave Yoonoh one last glare as he opened a bag of chips and settled on the couch in front of the common room’s TV. His best friend raised his hands in surrender, “I won’t leave chip crumbs on the couch this time, I promise.”

“Better not.” Taeyong said. “Sicheng and I are going to a study session before dance practice tomorrow, by the way, it’s going to be in the café you like, the one with the cheesy name.”

“Seoul Dreams?”

“That’s the one. Jisung’s brother is leading the study group.”

“I get why you’re going, but does Sicheng really need tutoring?”

Taeyong’s voice dripped malice, “Do you really want to insult me right now?” He sighed, too exhausted to wait for a response. “Sicheng wants to start tutoring, so he thought it would be a good idea to see how it usually goes.”

“Alright, I’ll tag along since I have to write an essay for my lit. class, anyway. It would be nice to work on it at the café.”

When Taeyong was ready for bed, he found Sicheng awake under the covers. He had created a sort of fort with the blankets and was currently playing on his phone. He looked up when Taeyong entered, nodded in acknowledgment, muted the game, and went back to playing. A moment later, he asked, “Was that Yoonoh you were talking to?” Taeyong answered sleepily, “Mmm.” Sicheng probably assumed that he and Yoonoh had been hanging out and Taeyong did not have the energy to tell him what happened. He decided he would do it tomorrow as he laid down, exhaustion burning his bones and numbing his mind. He closed his eyes.

The dream was one he’d had before: Yoonoh smiling at him, the sun beating down on the two of them. It always started with Yoonoh’s smile and ended with Taeyong’s tears. He knew the fight was coming. The one they always had in his dreams but never in reality. Only this time, before the fight began, a bird landed softly on top of Yoonoh’s head. It’s feet disappearing into Yoonoh’s caramel brown locks. The bird’s sleek feathers were a shade of blue so dark, it could be mistaken for black were it not for the harsh rays of sunlight. At first it just stayed perched, staring at Taeyong. Taeyong’s laughter bubbled up before he could control it. Yoonoh’s eyes narrowed in confusion. That was when the bird began to attack Yoonoh’s scalp with its peak over and over again until Taeyong was doubled over with laughter. He woke up from the sound of his own hiccup-like laugh. Sicheng was fast asleep. He was grateful he hadn’t woken him. It spared him an explanation of his strange dream. He closed his eyes again, and this time he did not dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mark will finally make an appearance in chapter 3 ^__^!!


	3. Like Bells Ringing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please listen to Stevie Wonder's cover of "Sunny" during or before reading Mark's part UWU <3

      Haechan was feeling benevolent. The pan hissed as he poured the contents of the large bowl into which he had cracked 20-odd eggs earlier. He seasoned and scrambled the eggs. He fried some bacon on the side. He had also found some jalapenos in the fridge, which he had sliced thinly. He sprinkled the slender rings over the eggs and toasted some bread. His voice rang through the common room’s kitchen, loudly enough to drag his dorm mates out of their rooms.

     Yuta was already up; he grinned gratefully and ruffled Haechan’s hair before settling down at the table. Doyoung was the next person to get out of the room he shared with Haechan. But instead of sitting at the table, he headed straight for Yuta and Ten’s room to drag a cranky Ten out of bed and he all but threw Ten into their shared bathroom. He then settled himself next to Yuta and the three began to dig in, not bothering to wait for Ten.

     Ten was considerably less cranky a minute later when he took his place next to Haechan at the table. He smiled playfully and said, “Ready to become the love of the Love of your Life’s life?”

     Haechan was clearly nervous, he began to sweat a little and chew on his bottom lip. Yuta jumped in before Haechan lost his nerve, “Of course, our little Haechanie’s got this in the bag. He is funny, interesting, and _intelligent_ ,” Yuta counted on his fingers. “So unlike the guy I ran into last night.”

     “The World’s Biggest Idiot?” Ten offered, helping Yuta change the subject. “Imagine a trademark sign after that.” He added.

     “He was nuts! He even talked to someone called Eight Rocks on the phone. I think he’s in a cult or something; they discussed murder and spawning.” Yuta explained, for what seemed like the hundredth time. “They were also talking about a mage and a black flight?”

     Doyoung said, “League of Legends.”

     “They were not legends, they were lunatics.” Yuta said.

     “No, they were talking about League of Legends. It’s a video game.”

     “Can we talk about Minhyung?” Haechan interrupted.

     “Who’s Minhyung?” They asked unanimously.

     “Mark, Mark’s name is Minhyung.” Haechan explained impatiently. “But don’t call him that. In fact, don’t call him anything. Don’t talk to him. God, how am I going to talk to him?” He fussed around with the plates.

     “You’ve known him for basically your whole life, there is no reason for you to be nervous now.” Ten reminded.

     “Exactly,” Haechan retorted. “We’ve known each other since primary school and he never approached me in a more-than-friendly way, which probably means he doesn’t like me that way.”

     “Can’t he say the same about you?” Ten reasoned.

     “I tried to skip a grade and ended up at college for him.” Haechan increased the tightness of his grip on the plates in his hands.

     “He doesn’t know that!”

     Haechan knew Ten was right. Ten put his hands over Haechan’s fingers and slowly extracted the plates from his grasp. “Haechan go take a shower and get ready for the study session. We will take care of these.” While Haechan nodded dazedly, Ten continued, “It will be great today, just focus on the study group.”

     “Okay. Yeah… thanks okay.” With that, Haechan left.

     The silence that followed was disturbed by Yuta’s question, “Don’t you think the university should make students take a psych eval. before accepting them?” Doyoung and Ten left him with the dishes.

     An hour later, they were ready to go. Yuta was wearing his raven/blue hair parted to the right, with the left side held back with small silver bobby pins. The pins formed three distinct mercury Xs in his hair. He wore a black long sleeved t-shirt and dark blue jeans. The few extra minutes it took him to style his hair were not necessary, but he found that fitting since going to this study session was just as unnecessary. Ten wore a similar outfit, but his shirt was short sleeved and half-tucked into his jeans, which were looser and a lighter shade of blue. The word _Stop_ was printed across his chest in red. Doyoung was in a blue pollo shirt and black slacks. Haechan’s brown waves were shinier than ever. He had definitely used some product. He wore a red bomber jacket over a white t-shirt and light blue jeans. Yuta noted that Haechan had put on his earring and held himself back from smiling. _Adorable_ , he thought. They made their way to Seoul Dreams Café.

 

 

 

     Taeyong’s blurry eyes snapped open in the dark. Something warm and heavy had settled on his stomach. He could see its silhouette due to the infiltration of yellow sunbeams through the minuscule cracks of the window shutters. The scent of toothpaste and something sweet invaded his senses. He felt large hands take hold of his shoulders and shake, lifting his upper body slightly up and off the bed then back down over and over again. “Wake up, Taeyong hyung,” It was Sicheng’s deep voice. Taeyong grunted and tried to turn away. Sicheng held on more firmly and shook him again, “We’re late.” Something wet fell on Taeyong’s forehead as Sicheng moved off of him. “Did you just spit on me?” He asked.

     “It’s my hair, still wet.” Sicheng shook his head like a dog, spraying Taeyong with water. “Yoonoh’s done getting ready, you should get up now if you want to shower, too.” Taeyong used his comforter to wipe droplets off of his face and chest before pulling himself out of bed and heading for the shower.

     When Taeyong was ready in record time, clad in a light white hoodie plain but for the **UFO** printed in green across the back with his blue ripped jeans. He barely ran his hands through his hair after towel drying it. He hurried into the common room to find Yoonoh wearing a plain white t-shirt and talking to Sicheng animatedly, “-- the world’s biggest idiot!”

     Sicheng looked thoughtful for a moment, his black turtleneck giving their conversation an unwarranted level of sophistication, then said, “Japanese, blue hair, judgmental… That sounds a lot like the guy from Kun’s econ. class. I’ve seen him before. You’re right, he does have a mildly rich look about him. But it’s not Chenle-rich.”

     “No one other than Chenle looks Chenle-rich.” Yoonoh countered.

     “That’s true. It’s because no one other than Chenle _is_ Chenle-rich.” Sicheng mused.

     Sicheng then noticed Taeyong. A grin broke across his face and and he yelled, “TY TRACK!” holding his arms open as though he expected Taeyong to leap into them. Taeyong cringed inwardly at the dance club members’ nickname for him. That was when Taeil, Yoonoh’s roommate, walked into the common room, looking disheveled and sleep deprived. He moved to the fridge without sparing any of them so much as a glance. When he found the contents of the fridge lacking he spoke, “Who stole my last coke bottle?”

     Taeyong answered, “That would be you, yesterday afternoon.”

     “Right.” Taeil answered, somewhat in a daze and went back to the room.

     Taeyong checked his phone for the time, and found that they still had twenty minutes. “Sicheng, you liar!”

     Yoonoh looked at Taeyong sympathetically, “He’s horrible to us. Curse our blind trust in him.”

     Sicheng rolled his eyes, “If I don’t tell you we’re late when we’re not, you stay in bed until we’re actually late. And you’re so used to us being late to everything that you think we’re early when we’re actually on time.”

     When Taeyong and Yoonoh stayed silent, Sicheng said, “Right then, let’s go.”

     “Wait,” Taeyong said, eyeing Yoonoh’s shirt. “We’re both wearing white.”

     “You change,” Taeyong and Yoonoh said at the same moment. “Rock paper scissors?” They said together again. Sicheng sat down at the couch while they finished, his arms folded. Yoonoh lost. He changed into Taeyong’s _Sexual Fantasies_ purple hoodie from the night before just to piss him off.

 

 

 

     Haechan pulled the door open, cold air rushed around him as he stepped into the café. The smell of coffee hit next and he looked around for a good table… and maybe for something else. Before his eyes completed their sweep, he noticed the two students, Taeyong and Sicheng, and a third guy whom he hadn’t met before. They were sitting at the largest table in the café. They looked like they were arguing, Sicheng pointing at his watch and Taeyong staring. The third guy was focused on his laptop, oblivious to their argument. He looked around the café one more time, willing his disappointment away, before making his way towards the three with his friends close behind him.

 

 

 

     Mark was on table cleaning duty, his back ached slightly and he massaged the area where his loose black t-shirt was tucked into his black work pants. He was supposed to be behind the counter again today. However, he had called Jeno last night to ask him if he was willing to switch places. Although this was both his and Jeno’s first week working here, Mark did not think he could handle customer service two days in a row, and he would rather clean tables and sweep floors than stand behind the counter and take another lactose free, extra shot, 5 pumps of syrup, 1.5 ice cubes, easy on the foam order again. Mark was beyond grateful when Jeno agreed. So now Mark wiped one table after another. He had his headphones in, which drowned out the noise of the people around him. Classic soul music poured first into his ears, and then it seeped deeper into his bones. It soothed his singed heart a little. The lyrics brought a wistful smile to his face. Stevie Wonder sang:

_~Sunny,  
Yesterday my life was filled with rain._

_Sunny,  
You smiled at me and really eased the pain._

_The dark days are gone,  
And the bright days are here,~_

     A warm breeze suddenly wafted in and kissed his right cheek, the sensation raised goosebumps along his cold skin. The warm air indicated that the door of the café was opened. He turned toward the door and the person he saw there made his heart throw itself into a graceless backflip. He turned his back promptly and all but ran for the counter, where Jeno was idling. He crouched by Jeno’s feet, hidden from the customers’, and a particular someone’s, view, and Jeno looked down at him, his mouth was moving silently. He could read the “What are you doing?” on Jeno’s lips. Mark realized that Stevie Wonder still sang into his ears:

 _~My Sunny one shines so sincere.  
Sunny one so true_ \--

      Mark jerked the earphones out of his ears and stuffed them into his back pocket. “Come with me.” He told Jeno and pulled him to the back. Now they were in the stuffy room filled with supplies and tools. Mark closed the door behind him took in a calming breath. He was pulling at Jeno’s green apron before he began explaining, “Mark, hold on what are you doing?” Jeno was staring at Mark like he’d gone mad, which he kind of had, but Mark didn’t have time to explain and just kept repeating, “Switch with me switch with me switch with me switch with me,” and Jeno’s eyebrows continued to ascend impossibly high. Mark had Jeno’s apron on in a few seconds and Jeno was left in his black shirt and black pants, grumbling about mood swings, his hair sticking out at the back where Mark had roughly pulled the apron off from around his neck. Mark had the mental presence to at least remove Jeno’s nametag from the apron and to throw it in Jeno’s general direction. But he did not have time to look for his own nametag. This would do.

     He reemerged into the café and stood at the abandoned counter. Thankfully no one was waiting for his or her order to be taken. He found Jeno’s abandoned cap sitting uselessly at the counter. His mouth opened in a small ‘o’, then he pushed his hair back and put it on. A second later he took it off again. He wanted to ask Jeno if he looked better with or without it, but that might make Jeno suspicious, and he was at the opposite end of the café, pretending to mop the floor. Customers began to pile in, and he tried his best to focus on their orders. He was definitely _not_ distracted by the person in the red jacket sitting at table 4. He tried to concentrate, caramel macchiato, extra shot, soy milk. Cold brew with 3 pumps of vanilla and a pump of hazelnut. He could now hear a bell-like voice coming from table 4. But he wasn’t distracted by it, no. It was just that that person has been in the café for a few minutes and has yet to order. But Mark was focused on giving the plastic cups with the customers’ orders and names to Johnny, who made the drinks.

     “Johnny,” He started. Johnny looked up from behind the steamer. “Cap,” he posed with the cap on. Head tipped a bit upwards to showcase his jaw. “Or no cap?” he took it off and posed again, this time with his head lowered and the tips of his light brown bangs falling lightly over his eyebrows. Johnny regarded him with serious eyes, “No cap, but keep your hair off your forehead.”

     “I agree,” Mark jumped at Jeno’s voice. “You want him to see your eyes, don’t you?” Jeno’s eyes, two inverted smiles in their own right, squinted as he smiled knowingly. To drown out Jeno’s stare, he pulled the left side of his earphones out of his back pocket and placed it into his ear. The song continued when he pressed play and Mark’s wide eyes darted towards table 4 again before he could stop himself. There he was, with his college friends. They had gigantic textbooks and laptops all over the table. Mark’s heart sank slightly when he saw how the college students’ focus was on the other boy. He hadn’t seen him in months, not since Mark was a junior and the other boy a sophomore. His hair had grown out since then; it was now long enough to curl around his ears where the glint of an earring flashed, and that somehow made Mark’s heart sink further down. By contrast, Mark hadn’t changed at all.

     Mark had always thought that he would feel differently about school when he was a senior, and he did, but not in the way he’d imagined. The halls seemed empty, the students seemed quiet, even the teachers seemed depressed. But maybe Mark was projecting. He kept thinking that if he could go back in time, he would do things differently. The next time he lifted his eyes, the table was still occupied by the college students in their weird pullovers and turtlenecks and unnatural hair colors, but a certain red jacket was missing from the group. He looked around, but couldn’t find him, until—

     “Hi.” Like bells ringing.

_~The dark days are gone,  
And the bright days are here,~_

     “Donghyuck.” Mark breathed. Here he was. The person Mark had kept looking for in the halls despite knowing he would not find him. The person who filled his heart with regret. The person whose presence he had taken for granted and lost.

_~My Sunny one shines so sincere.  
Sunny one so true—_

     Mark pulled the earphone out of his ear and placed it back into his back pocket. He smiled, “Donghyuck,” He repeated. “Hi.”


	4. You Remembered Me Because of My Very Cute Butt?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone meets everyone... more or less.

      Yuta liked the café’s atmosphere. It had a lot of windows, letting in rays of sunlight, the air-conditioning was good, and it was clean. If the coffee turned out to be to his taste, he would make this his new favorite spot for studying, he decided. Haechan scanned the place, Ten did the same. Yuta and Doyoung showed more self-restraint even though they were just as curious and excited to finally meet Haechan’s Mark as Ten was. Not _meet_ , Yuta corrected himself, _see_ , to see Haechan’s Mark. Haechan had forbidden them from speaking to him. Yuta said he would try his best to avoid the other boy, Ten, on the other hand, made no such promises.

      He lagged behind Ten and Haechan, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he pondered on whether changing his major in his third year would really be such a bad thing. His family back in Japan might be disappointed, but if he changed his major to something like engineering, they might support it. Either way, the decision was really his to make. On their walk to the café, he had purposely lagged behind Ten and Haechan to walk with Doyoung. He asked him whether or not he had settled on a third major. Doyoung had told him that he would decide after today’s study session. Yuta made a mental note to do the same.

      “There they are,” Haechan said, they followed him to the largest table in the café. The first things Yuta noticed were mere colors, Black, white, and purple. The second thing he noticed was that the guy in the black turtleneck looked extremely familiar, but he was not sure how he knew him. The third thing he noticed was that the guy in white looked royally pissed. The fourth thing he noticed was that the guy sitting next to him, the one who was playing music loudly enough for anyone within a ten meter radius of him to hear despite the fact that he had headphones on, the one who was typing away into his laptop as though his mind could muster up enough of his brain cells to put together a single proper sentence, was the World’s Biggest Idiot.

      He considered turning back and leaving. But he would not do that to Haechan. He could be civil to the Idiot for a couple of hours, he supposed. At least, so long as he did not suggest they rob the place or destroy public property. He wanted to warn his friends, but wasn’t sure how to go about it without being obvious.

The one in the turtleneck noticed them first, he smiled. The shift in Turtleneck’s posture alerted the angry one to their presence. Whereas he had been sulking a moment before, his pout now thawed into a wide charming smile, “Hello,” He said, his voice much deeper than Yuta had anticipated. “We just got here.” He said pointedly. At that, Turtleneck breathed in deeply and closed his eyes for a second. Someone else might have missed it, but Yuta was very sensitive to changes in other people’s moods and they had clearly had an argument, most likely about the timing of their arrival. It seemed like they had been here a while, if the Idiot’s typing is anything to go by. Yuta subtly checked his watch; he and his friends were about 7 minutes late themselves.

      “Hello, these are my friends Ten, Yuta, and Doyoung.” Haechan pointed at each one of them respectively. Yuta bowed slightly and flashed a wide grin. Haechan continued, addressing his friends this time, “This is Taeyong hyung, he is one of Jisung’s friends from dance,” He pointed at the angry one. “And this is Sicheng hyung.” Yuta now understood that Turtleneck, Sicheng, was the foreign student. _He’s from China, one of the best students at the best school there. He received a full-scholarship for his dancing and his academic work._ Haechan had told him when he’d asked earlier. He had been curious about Taeyong, too. But all Haechan knew about him was that he was a great dancer, but so were the other dance club members, and that his major was mechanical engineering. They sat. Doyoung across from Sicheng, Yuta next to Doyoung and across from Taeyong, Ten next to Yuta, across from the Idiot. Only Haechan remained standing, his grip vice-like on the back of his chair at the head of the table, and only his friends knew why.

     Taeyong took a breath, “Yuta, huh?” His ridiculously large eyes glinted with something Yuta couldn’t place, they were completely black as they met his own. Taeyong’s lips seemed to be holding back a smirk, “Nice hair.” He said, eyes shifting from Yuta’s to meet Sicheng’s in a silent exchange. Yuta didn’t say anything, he didn’t want to be rude, but he wasn’t sure if he should take Taeyong’s comment as a compliment or an insult. He suddenly felt a bit self-conscious, and then he felt angry because a comment from a stranger had had an effect on him. Taeyong then elbowed the World’s Biggest Idiot and Yuta inwardly cringed, but tried to maintain a neutral expression. “This is Yoonoh,” Taeyong droned. “He’s not here for the study session, he’s an English Literature major, he found a passion for the language after living four years in America with his family, so he’s working on an essay right now, that’s why he’s here.”

     The World’s Biggest Idiot, Yoonoh, took his sweet time typing before he removed his headphones and placed them around his neck. His lazy stare slid over Ten then Yuta then Doyoung then up towards Haechan, some semblance of alertness ignited behind his gaze as his eyeballs made their way back towards Yuta and settled there. Taeyong spoke again, “Yoonoh this is Haechan’s friend Yuta.”

     “We’ve met.” Yuta said, and he had a strong feeling Taeyong knew that. “I assume one of you is Eight Rocks and the other is the mage?” Doyoung gasped audibly, Ten held back a bark of laughter. Yuta did not know what Yoonoh and his friends would have done or said next because suddenly Haechan was a ball of energy as he said, “Your order?” about a hundred times to each of them. “Come on drinks on me what will it be going once, going twice—” They all started to give him their orders and he left in a hurry. Yuta assumed that meant he had found Mark. He heard Sicheng lean close to Taeyong’s ear and ask, “Is it customary for a tutor to pay for his students’ coffee in Korea?” Yuta craned his neck to at least get a peek of Mark—

     “So you’re all majoring in mechanical engineering?” Taeyong suddenly asked. Thankfully, Doyoung took over, he explained everything to Taeyong except for the part about Yuta’s major crisis, which he really didn’t need to know about. Yuta caught sight of Haechan with a guy who had to be Mark. His eyes were owl-like and his hands did a nervous dance as he stared at Haechan and that set Yuta’s heart at ease.

     Sudden movement to his left caught Yuta’s attention. When he turned, he found a bus boy dancing while wiping tables, he sighed. Maybe this wouldn’t be such a good place to study after all.

     “Isn’t that Jeno?” Sicheng asked Taeyong. They were also looking at the dancing boy. “It is, this must be the new job he was talking about when he said he was going to miss dance practice today.” Taeyong grinned before getting up to say hello, his face completely transformed by the expression, and Sicheng followed suit.

     Ten and Yoonoh were caught in a conversation that Yuta had missed the beginning of and Doyoung was writing something in his notebook. Yuta couldn’t wait for this to be over.

 

 

 

     Haechan needed to stop staring. Mark hadn’t changed in the few months Haechan hadn’t seen him. Haechan had his face memorized and now he revised his features. His eyes slid from his feathery hair to his smooth forehead to his eyes down to his sharp cheekbones then they settled on his lips. But even though nothing about Mark had changed physically, Haechan felt like a wall had somehow grown between them. However, he wasn’t sure what caused it. Maybe he was being paranoid.

     “Donghyuck, hi.” Mark was smiling at him slightly, hesitantly, Haechan swallowed thickly, trying to rein in his nerves. He spoke. “No one calls me that anymore,” He found himself saying. The smile was wiped from Mark’s face. His lips parted, his bottom lip jutting out slightly, casting a darker shade to the depression beneath it. _I missed being called that,_ is what Haechan had meant to say. “Everyone calls me Haechan now.” Haechan said instead.

     “Oh.” Was all Mark said to him in return.

     “So you work here now?” Haechan said, hoping to change the look on Mark’s face. It did not work. He wanted to take a plastic fork from behind the counter and poke himself with it. It’s like he had no control over what he was saying. This was much worse than he had feared. Mark picked up the black cap that was sitting on the counter and placed it on his head, a shadow draping itself over his eyes. “Yes,” Mark looked away slightly for half a second then back into Haechan’s eyes. “I do work here now.” There was a new edge to his tone. Something heavy filled the air and for a moment neither one of them said anything. Haechan wracked his brain for a joke, for anything that would diffuse the tension, for anything that would make Mark look at him like he used to. Mark looked expectantly between Haechan and the line that was forming beside him. “May I take your order Dong—uh… Haechan?” Mark asked.

     Haechan’s heart was somewhere on the floor. He wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole. He had been planning on asking Mark how he was. He wanted to ask about everyone at school and if the cafeteria food was still disgusting. He wanted to know if Mark had already started applying to colleges. He wanted to know what Mark was thinking of majoring in. He wanted to know if Mark was still writing fiction. Or maybe if Mark wanted to hang out and catch up after his shift ended. He picked up his useless heart off of the floor, not bothering to remove any of the dust it had no doubt collected.

     He gave Mark the order.

     He carried the tray with everyone’s drinks back to the table. He felt absolutely rotten. But he promised himself to talk to Mark when his shift was over. Even though the thought of it sent his throat and ears burning. Someone in a black t-shirt blocked his path. “Ah, Jeno, hello, hello,” He tried his best to sound like he was happy to see his friend, who was clearly excited to see him. Haechan didn’t give the boy time to respond and just pummeled on, “How are you today, how’s the family, how’s dance, I’ll see you soon, gotta study.” He left the smiling boy dumbstruck. But he was too destroyed to actually care at the moment.

 

 

     Yuta knew something went wrong as soon as he saw Haechan’s slumped shoulders. He was even more sure when Haechan completely blew off the dancing boy. Now they all stared at a clearly deflated Haechan. The study session began. Sicheng and Taeyong were both paying close attention, but no one seemed as focused as Doyoung. Ten was working on a sketch of Doyoung drooling over an equation with heart eyes. The Idiot was still typing. An hour or so passed this way. Yuta was zoning out when he spilled some of his drink on his pants. He got up to grab some napkins, and found that he was actually grateful for the accident. Anything was preferable to sitting there uselessly. He should have brought something to entertain himself with. He was definitely _not_ changing his major to mechanical engineering.

     Sharp pain shot up his side as something hit him hard. “I’m so sorry, man, I was rushing and I didn’t see you there.” A deep raspy voice said. It was Mark, somehow managing to look angry and panicked at the same time.

     “It’s fine,” Yuta said, trying to be extra nice for Haechan’s sake. “Just be careful in the future, Mark.” He rubbed his side.

     “How do you know my name?” Mark asked and Yuta realized his mistake. He tried to think quickly, “I’ve been here before, you had your nametag on the last time I saw you, and I remembered you because you’re… very cute? but—” He wanted to explain how he wasn’t flirting with him, but thought it would be best if he shut himself up before he made things worse.

     He was wrong.

     “You remembered me because of my very cute butt?” Mark’s eyebrows raised, his mouth twisted. He looked completely offended and Yuta didn’t blame him.

     “I’m sorry, look, can you forget we had this conversation?”

     “I’d gladly forget this entire day,” Mark muttered. “Not likely to happen, though. Anyways, see ya.” Mark gave Yuta a salute/wave before he left.

     Yuta went back to the table, completely forgetting about his ruined pant leg. He found Sicheng packing his textbooks into a messenger bag, Taeyong, who hadn’t brought anything with him, said, “Welcome back.” to Yuta with a small smile, his chin in his hand. The way his dark hair was parted exposed strong eyebrows, straight above expressionless eyes. “Thanks?” Yuta answered, He didn’t know what the guy’s deal was, but he wanted to stay as far away from those mocking eyes as possible.

     “Thank you, Haechan, that was very informative. Jisung was right, you’re the mvp.” Sicheng said. The Idiot was holding up Ten’s sketch of Doyoung and laughing hysterically. Doyoung was beaming, clearly satisfied with mechanical engineering as a third major. Yoonoh caught Yuta looking and opened his mouth to say something then promptly closed it and shook his head slightly.

     After they left, Yuta was left with a melancholic Haechan and a sympathetic Ten and Doyoung at the café. “I am as stupid as I am intelligent! How did I not notice him leaving?” Haechan exclaimed.

     “Haechan, don’t say that, you’re a lot smarter than you are dumb.” Said Yuta.

     “Thank you,” Haechan said. “Although I’m not so sure how seriously I should take the opinion of someone with blue hair.” Ten cackled at that. Yuta wanted to be offended, but hearing Haechan make a joke meant that he was feeling better. He also kind of owed him, “Haechan…” He started nervously. “I may or may not have led Mark to believe that I was a stalker who thought he had a really cute butt.” Haechan’s jaw dropped, “I told you not to talk to him! Oh, god.”

     “You’ll get him next time.” Ten encouraged Haechan, then shot Yuta a _what-the-hell-is-your-problem_ look.

     “Yeah,” Haechan said a bit soberly. “I hope he doesn’t hate me, or worse, like Yuta.”

     “He did look at you like he hated you a little, however, I can’t say I saw his interaction with Yuta.” Doyoung added unhelpfully. “But, I don’t know Mark well at all, so the way he stared at you with hatred could probably mean that he likes you a lot.” He amended pathetically after he noticed Ten’s glare.

     “Yuta, how come you failed to mention that the World’s Biggest Idiot also had the World’s Sexiest Smile?” Ten questioned, changing the subject. “Also, did you see the guy who made our drinks? He _really_ shook that espresso shaker…”

     Yuta scoffed, “Well, he wasn’t exactly smiling as he tried to murder a vending machine. And could you keep it in your pants? There is a child present.” Yuta gestured towards Haechan. “But it’s always in my pants!” Ten complained. Doyoung slapped Ten’s shoulder and covered Haechan’s ears with his forearms and his eyes with his hands. Haechan grumbled about how they would all find boyfriends before he became the Love of the Love of his Life’s Life and then said something about how Yuta would probably get there before him. Doyoung came out to them as straight, which they ignored. The mood lightened considerably and by the time they had walked back to the dorm they were doubled over with laughter. But Yuta did not miss the way Haechan’s expression tightened a bit after every bout of laughter he allowed himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry unu
> 
> Next chapter ----> Yutae :o


	5. God Jisung’s Got This

      It was Monday night and Taeyong found himself aimlessly wandering around a vending machine. Well, maybe not so aimlessly. Earlier in his and Sicheng’s room, he’d found it nearly impossible to find enough motivation to advance to the final point. In his headphones, his team kept grumbling about how he was dragging them down, even Sicheng was losing patience with him. No matter how many times he healed Taeyong’s character, no matter how many hits Yoonoh took for the team, Taeyong still fought half-heartedly. He pulled the headphones down so that they rested around his neck. His mind kept flashing streaks of midnight blue hair, of large expressive eyes, of moody lips, of pretty hands until Sicheng rudely interrupted his daydreaming by shoving him down on the bed and leaving the room, abandoning the game.

     He had shaken off Sicheng’s outburst, gotten up and pulled a ratty orange half-sleeved t-shirt he found thrown carelessly on his bed over his black sweatpants and put on a pair of black converse. The night air was cool, but warm enough so that he did not need to put on a jacket over his crumpled t-shirt. On his way out, he was met with both Yoonoh and Sicheng’s angry stares, which he ignored. He wanted to say something to them about how they were taking video games too seriously, but he had once thrown an empty Mountain Dew can at Yoonoh’s head for missing a shot in Overwatch and he was sure they would both bring it up as a retort, and so he walked out of the common room silently.

     At first, Taeyong told himself he was just walking to clear his head, but subconsciously he must have had a purpose because now he found himself here, by the very same vending machine with which Yoonoh had wrestled. He smirked to himself, remembering the events from two days ago. When Haechan had introduced them to Yuta, he had tried his best to hold back and act casual, but he suspected he had still spooked the guy. He had been bored for too long and getting introduced to the person who had called Yoonoh an idiot when the event was still fresh was just too good, and the look on Yoonoh’s face had been priceless. He had suspected that it was him as soon as he saw the blue hair, but when Haechan referred to the guy as Yuta, a clearly Japanese name, he knew for a fact that it was him. Yoonoh and Sicheng had been right, Yuta did have a rich-guy face, but that would not be very high on the list of adjectives that Taeyong would use to describe him. And to say that Taeyong felt curious about him would be a gross understatement.

     Haechan had been a good tutor, and he had done it for free, too. Taeyong was sure the kid would be a great professor by the time he turned 18 years old. Taeyong had benefitted a lot from the study session, but he couldn’t say he wasn’t distracted. When Yuta spilled some of his coffee on his jeans, Taeyong had almost offered to help. But Yuta was clearly uncomfortable around him, which was probably Yoonoh’s fault, and he didn’t want to make things more uncomfortable than they already were by offering to rub a wet napkin against his thigh for him.

     He grabbed a grape soda from the vending machine and sat on the empty bench near it. A minute later he put the soda down on the ground and stretched on his back on the bench. His left leg bent with his foot on the ground, while his right leg stretched straight on the bench. His left cheek rested against the warmth of the wood of the bench. He made sure to hum very quietly to himself on the off chance that Yoonoh wasn’t wrong about the guard hiding in the bushes just to bust students. He wasn’t doing anything that could be considered as a breach to any of the university laws, but he was sure the guard wouldn’t like his loitering.

     He must have dozed off. The sound of steps close by jerked him into a sitting position. The campus was practically empty. He blinked a few times, then he smiled as he stood up and off the bench. Yuta was in a sleeveless black shirt and black gym shorts, exposing wiry muscles along his arms and strong calves. His dark hair stuck to his forehead and the back of his neck glistened with sweat. For a moment, Taeyong was fascinated as he watched a bead of sweat slide from his hair down the back of his neck only to disappear in the wide dip between his shoulder blades. The way he walked radiated confidence; there was a certain lithe swagger to it that made Taeyong wonder if Yuta danced.

     Taeyong sped up a bit to catch up to him, his feet silent on the cobblestone pathway. “Hi.” He said, causing Yuta to jump a little. “Good workout?”

     “You’re—” Yuta started. “From the café,” He said only to cut off again, clearly taken by surprise. “Taeyong, right?” He had a very nice voice.

     “You remember.” Taeyong answered with a smile, he noticed that Yuta still avoided looking into his eyes, instead Yuta’s eyes nervously flitted around him, his smile was polite, but stiff.

     “Do you and your friends always hang around that vending machine?” Yuta asked, recovering from his shock much too quickly. Taeyong couldn’t decide whether he was pleased or disappointed.

     “Sometimes,” He lied, laughing a little. “I was just grabbing a grape soda.” At the slightly panicked look on Yuta’s face Taeyong clarified, “I paid for it.” It was Yuta’s turn to laugh. He cleared his throat, looking at Taeyong sideways for a second, then away again. Neither one of them spoke for a bit. Taeyong did not mind the silence as they walked together, but he wanted to find a way to get Yuta to feel comfortable around him, and so he went with the easiest option available.

     “Sorry about Yoonoh,” He said. “He gets carried away sometimes.” Taeyong was sure Yoonoh would forgive him for this small act of betrayal.

     “Was he drunk?” Yuta asked.

     “No, he passed the breathalyzer test and everything.”

     “Somehow that’s even worse— Wait, she made him take a breathalyzer test?”

     “He’s not a bad guy, really, he just forgot his wallet that night and he was hungry. Also, he really hates that vending machine, it swallowed so much of his money since he started uni,” Taeyong couldn’t help but get a little defensive. “And yeah, she didn’t believe him when he told her he was sober.”

     “To be honest, I don’t even know why she needed my side of the story when she saw the whole thing from the bush.”

     “The bush was real?” Taeyong opened his mouth in shock.

     “Oh yeah,” Yuta said. “I noticed her when your friend—” He stopped himself. “I mean Yoonoh, was kicking the machine, she looked like a rodent in there.”

     “That’s what he said!” Taeyong exclaimed.

     “He knew she was watching and he still did that?”

     Taeyong realized he was doing a very poor job of changing  
Yuta’s opinion of Yoonoh and so he decided to steer clear of the subject now that Yuta was finally meeting his eyes for longer than five seconds at a time. “He probably didn’t know, it was just a theory,” Taeyong said. “So, Yuta…”

     Yuta looked at him expectantly. Something about having those wide eyes trained on him made Taeyong feel like he just succeeded in achieving a difficult task and Taeyong reveled in it for a bit, that is, until Yuta started to chew on the inside of his cheek, which made his lips pucker, which in turn made Taeyong’s blood run cold and hot at the same time. Taeyong realized that he was maybe feeling the slightest bit… nervous? How very _interesting_...

     “Do you dance?” He finally asked and Yuta blinked once, twice, three times. He did it cutely, Taeyong noted. Taeyong on the other hand was sure that he himself looked like he was twitching more than blinking most of the time because of his excessive gaming.

     “Not really… I mean I don’t.” Yuta answered. Taeyong was a bit disappointed but not the least bit discouraged. “You should join my dance team tomorrow,” He told Yuta. “Give it a try or at least just check it out. It’s really fun.”

     “Sure.” Yuta said to Taeyong’s surprise. “When will it be?”

     “Practice starts at 2:30 in the afternoon.”

     “I’m free tomorrow afternoon.”

     “Great!” Taeyong said as he put a hand on Yuta’s shoulder lightly, Yuta squirmed away slightly, quickly saying, “I’m pretty gross right now, sorry.” Taeyong only touched him for a second, but Yuta’s skin was soothingly warm under his cold fingers, it caused some heat to rise up his chest. So very interesting.

     “Gross is not the word I would use.” Taeyong said. He hoped he wasn’t being too much, but didn’t really regret what he said. He meant it after all. He was pleasantly surprised when Yuta’s lips quirked into a smirk. He suddenly stopped walking, faced Taeyong full on and said “A or B?”

     Taeyong squinted his eyes, confused. Yuta explained, “Which building is your dorm room in, building A or B?” At that, Taeyong’s mouth went dry. “Uh, A.” He answered after a brief pause.

     “Oh, okay” Yuta answered. “Goodnight then, mine’s in building B so I’ll be heading that way.”

     “Ah,” Taeyong inwardly scolded himself for misreading the situation and getting flustered over nothing. Why did he even think that was what Yuta was suggesting? “Should I pick you up tomorrow?”

     “We can meet near the vending machine.” Yuta said. “What time should I be there?”

     “Is two o’clock okay?”

     “I’ll see you then.” Yuta said with a wide smile that exposed rows of perfect teeth and left.

     Taeyong walked back to his dorm feeling like a man possessed. _Did that really just happen?_ He kept thinking. He realized he was smiling to himself. He felt… giddy. When he walked into the common room he found Yoonoh making coffee even though it was pretty late, which was very irresponsible and so very typical of Yoonoh. He walked up to him and just stared for a moment. Yoonoh looked back and then tilted his head, almost comically, “Taeyong hyung? Everything okay?” Taeyong walked up to him and looked into his eyes, his hand closed over the back of Yoonoh’s free hand and crept up his arm slowly, stopping just above his elbow. Yoonoh stared. Taeyong knew he was acting strangely, but he needed to be sure so he waited a few seconds. “Hyung?” Yoonoh said again. Taeyong still felt nothing. He withdrew his hand and asked Yoonoh to pour him a cup too, as he very much doubted he would sleep tonight anyways.

 

 

     Yuta was used to waking up early, so he never hesitated to take 8 AM classes. He always woke up early enough to jog around campus, go back to the dorm for a shower and a quick bite, and be in the classroom 15 minutes before the lecture began. Tuesday morning was no different, except he tripped and almost fell twice during his jog, he accidentally shampooed his hair three times in the shower, and he ate a single bite out of Haechan’s cheesecake, another single bite from Ten’s leftover pizza, and last but not least, a single bite from Doyoung’s sandwich. All of which he ate straight out of the fridge and closed the door, temporarily hiding the evidence of his crimes. Maybe they wouldn’t notice, it was just one bite after all.

     After his class ended, he went back to the dorm where he found Ten trying to climb over the counter to get something from the top shelf. When he noticed Yuta, he jumped down, “Yuta, you go to the gym, can you help me out? I need the chili flakes from the back of the shelf.”

     Yuta suppressed the need to roll his eyes as he made his way across the common room and to his room, “I work out, Ten, I don’t practice levitation.” He said before slipping inside.

     He had some time to kill before he needed to start getting ready to meet Taeyong, so opened his laptop to find something that might help him clear his mind. He logged onto twitter first, his timeline was flooded with people complaining about quizzes and projects, which only reminded him that he needed to find a new major quickly if he was really going to change it. He was about to close the window when he saw a tweet Haechan had posted of a quote talking about looking at every new day as a blank page, which you can fill with endless possibilities of your choice. Yuta meditated on that for a bit. His thoughts ended up right where they started this morning when he woke up: Taeyong. At first, he had thought Taeyong was mocking him, his eyes were distant and cold. Then he figured he was just amused by the vending machine incident and wanted Yuta and Yoonoh to cause a scene, because a fire danced behind his black orbs as he watched their reactions to seeing each other. Last night, however, his eyes seemed open, clear of any dark intent. Yuta wasn’t sure what it was that made him decide to give Taeyong a chance, but he felt something new when Taeyong looked at him last night. He wanted to find out what that feeling was and whether he liked it or not.

     Ten poked his head into the room, “Are you seriously not going to help me?” Yuta groaned and got up.

     A few hours later, Yuta was in a pair of black skinny jeans and a tucked in black cotton long sleeved shirt. His hair was getting long, he noticed his roots had grown out as he parted it down the middle, and he was grateful that he had chosen to dye it such a dark shade of blue. He purposefully made as little effort as possible. He thought about canceling on Taeyong for a second, but it would be a crappy move. Besides, he didn’t even have Taeyong’s number, and leaving the guy waiting by the vending machine would make him the world’s biggest ass. He didn’t know why he was nervous; he was just going to check out Taeyong’s dance team after all, hell, Jisung would be there!

     He saw Haechan in the common room, he seemed immersed in his phone so Yuta just murmured a goodbye and left, he wasn’t sure Haechan heard him and he doubted he cared. He arrived at the vending machine at five past two to find Taeyong sitting on the bench near it. He didn’t notice Yuta as he was staring intently at the ground, elbows on his knees, hands fisted on either side of his face. His cheeks were pushed slightly upwards, and Yuta wondered how he had found him intimidating the first time they met. Yuta stood in front of him, so close that the afternoon sun above cast a slight shadow between Yuta’s red Timberlands and Taeyong’s black converse.

     “Ant watching?” Yuta asked. Taeyong’s eyes slid slowly upwards from Yuta’s legs to his chest, finally finding his eyes. His fists opened slightly to keep up with his slowly rising head. Now he balanced his jaw on his knuckles as he looked up at Yuta, his mouth slightly open and his eyes behind his bangs were larger than any Yuta had seen outside of animation. His hair and eyes were pitch black even under the harsh sunlight. “You came.” Taeyong said, his lips spreading into a cat-like grin. Yuta felt bad for being late, but he didn’t think Taeyong was the punctual type. Back at the café he had thought Taeyong was upset with his friend because they were early, but maybe he was wrong and Taeyong was just upset because Yuta and his friends had been late.

     “Have you been waiting long?” Yuta asked.

     “No,” Taeyong said too quickly. “I just got here.”

     “Good.” Yuta said, even though he knew Taeyong was lying. How long had he been waiting? Yuta was just 5 minutes late…

     “Come on, we still have time to grab coffee,” Taeyong said with a small smile, his eyes crinkled prettily at Yuta and Yuta tried to not focus on that, instead he watched Taeyong push up the sleeves of his midnight blue sweatshirt. “The studio is pretty close to the cafe and as the leader of the group I can be as late to practice as I want.”

     “I’d expect the opposite.” Yuta answered, his eyes still on Taeyong’s elbows.

     “You’re right,” Taeyong laughed a little. “But if they get free coffee and donuts, they let me get away with anything.” He admitted as he got up. They walked to the café quietly and after a couple of minutes, Yuta needed to break the silence, “So, you play Lords and Legends?” Yuta asked, hoping the topic would help him understand the world of video games. Maybe he would find enough interest in them to change his major to game design or computer engineering. Taeyong burst out laughing, his shoulders jumped up and down infinitesimally as he did. He knew he was being laughed at, but he couldn’t help but smile at the strangled sound Taeyong was making. When Taeyong was done he wiped some tears from the corners of his eyes and said, “Yeah, yeah I play that game.”

     “I said it wrong, didn’t I?” Yuta asked.

     “No, no…” Taeyong answered and had another fit of laughter. Yuta liked the sound so he held back from calling Taeyong out on how lame it was to call your friends by their video game character. Taeyong repeated “Lords and Legends!” incredulously and Yuta immediately felt that holding back from insulting others was overrated as he said, “Your friend calls you Seven Rocks and you’re laughing at me for getting your video game name wrong?” Yuta would never in a million years have anticipated that this would be Taeyong’s reaction. He wanted to take back what he said because Taeyong paused with his hand at the café door’s handle to _pout_ at Yuta. Yuta felt his eyes nearly pop out of their sockets and his lips part in surprise. Taeyong was _pouting_. “I’m sorry.” Yuta said at the exact same moment that Taeyong said, “It’s Aatrox…” and pushed into the café with a regretful Yuta trailing behind him.

     They were quiet again after that. Yuta surveyed the café, looking for Mark who was not there, neither was the dancing boy. He belatedly realized that it was a Tuesday and their shift would probably start later since they had school. Taeyong ordered a dozen glazed donuts then started listing the coffee orders, Yuta did not pay attention to the orders but some of the names Taeyong gave the barista to write on the cups caught his attention, Nana, Jen, Moomin, Wing, Lele, and the last he recognized as Haechan’s half-brother: Jisung Pwaark (Taeyong actually grabbed the pen to write it down with the emphasis Jisung always demanded) when he was done he nodded for Yuta to say his order. Yuta ordered an iced Americano. He had no nickname to offer so he just gave his name. Taeyong’s drink was last, it was a latte with extra caramel and when the tired barista asked for his name he started to say, “Aatr—” Then stopped himself and looked quickly at Yuta then back at the barista to say, “Taeyong.” When they left the café Yuta remembered that he still didn’t have Taeyong’s phone number and asked him for it. Taeyong smiled for a full minute after that.

     They arrived at the studio at 2:35. Yuta made sure to turn off his phone like he always did whenever Jisung was close by. Then he said hi to a surprised Jisung. Jisung quickly introduced him to everyone, Yuta told him that he had already met Sicheng, who was wearing the same purple pullover that Yoonoh had been wearing at the café, which made Yuta wonder who it really belonged to. He made a mental note to tell Ten that it might not be Yoonoh’s after all. And while Taeyong distributed the drinks, Jisung pulled Yuta aside to ask him why Haechan hadn’t come home over the weekend like he usually does. “He was upset.” Yuta offered. Jisung’s eyes were serious as he asked, “About the Mark hyung thing?”

     “Yeah, it didn’t really work out like Haechan imagined.”

     “I know, I texted him, but I wasn’t sure that that was the reason he stayed at the dorm…” Jisung looked thoughtful for a moment, as though considering whether he should let Yuta in on the biggest secret mission in the world. “Listen,” he started, and Yuta knew he was in even though he hoped Jisung would keep him out. “I’ve got this plan, I’ve already started it, but I want to see if it’s effective before sharing it with Haechan I don’t want him to have false hope again. Just tell him to stay strong.” He quickly flashed Yuta a smile shaped like the world’s tiniest square. “Also, turning your phone off does nothing to hinder my ability to hack it,” he whispered. Jisung, like his brother, also kept his genius a secret from his friends and his family in order to maintain a life as normal as possible. “Check.” Jisung challenged, eyeing Yuta’s pocket, which currently housed his phone. Yuta inwardly groaned as he took his phone out of his pocket to see that it had been turned back on and that his background was now of Jisung’s face faded into a clear blue sky. “God Jisung’s got this.” Jisung winked. “This doesn’t make it look like you’re God, it makes it look like you passed away.” Yuta threw back. Jisung pursed his lips in anger, “Check. Again.” The kid had some serious issues. Yuta looked at his phone again, this time, it was Yuta’s own face fading into a clear blue sky. Yuta, in the midst of his despair, noticed the Dancing Boy, Jeno, yelling into his phone, “No, he does not have a shift today, and no I do not know why, now stop texting me!”

     “Yuta, Jisung!” Taeyong’s voice called out. “We’re starting.” Yuta settled into a corner to watch and Jisung joined the others. Yuta sipped on his coffee as he watched them. They were impressive and it looked like they were having a lot more fun than he does at the gym. In the back of his mind, he decided he would join next time, if Taeyong asked him to join them again that is…

     Two hours later, they had to split up. Jeno had a shift at the café and needed a shower beforehand. Yuta overheard Jaemin begging Jeno to let him and Renjun help him with his homework and Jeno insisting that he can manage his job and school. Yuta moved away because the conversation was obviously private. He then ended up overhearing Chenle worriedly ask Jisung if he could find out how much money Jeno made in a hushed tone. No matter where he turned he felt like he was intruding, he was about to ask Taeyong, who was quickly cleaning up the place, if he needed help when Sicheng blocked his path. “Did you really not have any money on you when Yoonoh asked?”

     “Uh, yeah.” Yuta replied.

     “Awesome. Thanks.” And with that, Sicheng picked up his back bag and left the studio.

     “Was he asking you about whether or not you had money that day?” Taeyong asked, pushing his sweat-soaked bangs out of his eyes as he walked towards Yuta. He was still a little out of breath from practice.

     “Yes,” Yuta said. “What was that about?”

     “They made a bet, Yoonoh—” He stopped himself, but Yuta finished for him, “He thought I was lying.” Taeyong blinked at him for a moment then nodded slightly. Yuta knew Taeyong wanted him to like his friend, but the guy was a piece of work.

     “Do you want to grab lunch?” Taeyong asked. Yuta told him that he had a paper to work on, but made sure to add that he would like to go out for lunch another time. Taeyong told him to wait a few minutes while he washed up before they headed back. They were between the two dorm buildings when Taeyong suddenly said, “You’ll dance too next time, won’t you?” Yuta’s heart warmed and he promised he would, not caring that he would probably make a fool out of himself in front of them, he liked hearing Taeyong laugh anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter we'll see what Markhyuck were up to during the two days over which the events of this chapter took place.


	6. I Can’t Believe You Kissed Me!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark tries to have a good, Donghyuckless Monday. Instead, he ends up having flashbacks of two important moments in his life and they both involve the one and only Full Sun.

      It was Monday morning and Mark was in a good mood. He pushed his earphones in and basked in the sun outside the school’s building. He had spent the majority of the weekend sulking and ignoring his friends’ texts, which had done him good, since he had needed some space to clear his head. He only turned his phone on to grudgingly answer his mother’s weekly video call.

      His mother and father lived in Canada, where he was born. When he was 9 years old, they decided to bring him to Korea to live with his grandparents because they got too busy to look after him properly. They promised him that the move was temporary. When Mark started school in Korea he felt like a sore thumb. Even though he spoke the language fluently, he missed all the intricacies and crevices of the culture. He couldn’t seem to connect with the other students; he couldn’t understand their sense of humor, and found that whereas in Canada he had belonged, every attempt he made to assimilate into Korea fell flat.

      It was January when he met Donghyuck for the first time, Mark was lonely and the cold weather only made him miss home more. His grandparents were kind, but they weren’t his parents. Korea was beautiful, but it wasn’t Canada. And Mark had no friends. Mark had often felt a strange weariness tugging at him the first few months after the move. When he had complained about it to his grandmother, he learned what homesickness was. He did not feel motivated to go to school and was often late to his classes. That particular day, he knew he had been late one too many times and so he hurried to class. The thought of him causing trouble for his grandparents is what drove him to literally run into the unsuspecting boy. Mark felt the other boy’s thin shoulder dig into his chest one moment, and the next they were both on the floor. He had been so shocked that he didn’t realize he was speaking in English when he said, “I’m so sorry!”

      The boy stared daggers at him, slightly lifting off the ground to rub at his butt. “Excuse me?” He asked in Korean, his voice was higher than Mark’s. Mark realized what he had said and apologized again in Korean this time. “Aaah,” The boy said, deliberately drawing out the exclamation. “You’re Canada boy, aren’t you?” Mark was surprised for a moment, but then recovered and nodded. He had felt completely invisible as he roamed the halls of the school, and now here was this boy who knew who he was, where he was from. He felt a glimmer of hope rise in his chest. “Well, it would do you good to remember that you’re in Korea now.” Donghyuck smiled and nodded sagely as he spoke. He repeated what he said in broken English, “Here is Korea. Don’t forgot.” And just like that, Mark’s hope was snuffed out.

      Since that day, he started noticing the dark skinned boy with soft wavy hair in the halls. He was always surrounded by a group of friends and he always threw a mocking phrase or two in English towards Mark. Everything about the boy, from his confident strides to his loud voice to his carefree attitude to his friends who obviously worshipped him, reminded Mark of just how alone he was. Mark’s parents were Christian, and he was brought up to believe in heaven. But it was only after meeting Donghyuck that Mark had truly believed in hell.

      “Hey, Morr,” Donghyck called out one day at lunch, making fun of the way Mark pronounced his Rs and then he got up to stand on his chair and loudly started singing the Canadian national anthem. Everyone around them started to laugh. Mark left as quickly as he could, not bothering to take his food with him. He had begged his parents to take him back to Canada that night on the phone. He had promised them he would not need their help with anything, that he would learn to make his own meals and clean up after himself, he promised to get stellar grades and do extra chores, but it was all to no avail. Because of Donghyuck, he started kneeling at his bed every night to pray that his parents would take him back with them to Canada.

      Mark managed to avoid Donghyuck for a few weeks, but inevitably, he ended up face to face with him in the same hallway where they first met. He wanted to turn and walk the other way, but Donghyuck said, “Morrr, wait up.” And just like that, Mark exploded. He had never been violent before, but he grabbed Donghyuck’s narrow shoulders and pushed him away before Donghyuck’s hand reached him. Shock painted Donghyuck’s face as he staggered a few steps backwards before finding his balance. Mark felt shame rise in him for pushing the smaller boy, but poison flew out of his lips nonetheless, “If you mess with me one more time,” He slowly advanced in the other boy’s direction. “I swear to god—”      

      “What’s going on here?” A teacher had passed by just as Mark was about to finish his sentence. “Why aren’t you both in class?”

      Mark didn’t say anything for a few seconds. Part of him wanted Donghyuck to tell the teacher that he had pushed him. He wasn’t sure why though. “Miss Park,” Donghyuck said in a cheerful tone, his shocked expression melting away and reforming as a big airy smile. Donghyuck sounded very sure of himself and Mark held his breath as he waited for him to finish his sentence expectantly. “Class is always so boring so Mark and I decided not to go today.” Donghyuck finished with a smile.

      That was how Mark and Donghyuck ended up with class cleaning duty after school for ten days. Mark’s grandparents were disappointed after speaking to the school and Mark wanted to own up to what he did. He asked Donghyuck to come with him so that they could explain to the teacher that Mark had pushed him when they were both on their way to their classes. Donghyuck looked at him like he was insane and told him that he must have been hallucinating because he remembered nothing of what Mark described. He told Mark that he would deny the whole thing if Mark decided to go to Miss Park on his own.

      The first few days they divided the work between the two of them equally, which meant they only crossed paths briefly as they shuffled from one classroom to another. But one day as Mark absentmindedly moved his broom back and forth, Donghyuck poked his head through the classroom door, “I’m all done.” He said.

      “Okay.” Mark didn’t know what else to say, when one of them finished, he usually just left so he wasn’t sure why Donghyuck was still here. Donghyuck came into the classroom and picked up a rag, “You know Jaemin?” He asked Mark. Jaemin was one of Donghyuck’s friends, Mark didn’t know him personally but he had seen him around school. When Mark nodded Donghyuck continued, “Did you know we met in kindergarten?” Mark didn’t know how Donghyuck thought he would know that about him so he didn’t bother answering. Instead he said, “You don’t have to help me, I can clean my classrooms on my own.” Donghyuck’s hand tightened around the rag and he stubbornly started wiping a desk, “Jaemin was the best, he used to share his snacks with everyone and he never hogged the swing…”

      “Um… Okay? I don’t know why you’re telling me this I--”

      “Could you stop cutting me off? Is this the Canadian way?” Mark instantly felt offended on behalf of his hometown and stopped speaking. “Anyway, I wanted to be Jaemin’s friend.” He was already on his second table. Mark started sweeping again. “Do you know what I did?”

      “What?” Mark asked quietly.

      “I started calling him a poop.” Mark couldn’t help but let out a surprised, choked laugh. Donghyuck continued, “My other friend Jeno had his ears pulled by me all throughout first grade, and I used to color Renjun’s white shirt during art class.” Mark stopped laughing, “Why did you do these things to them if you wanted to befriend them?” Mark asked, curiosity winning over animosity. He put the broomstick in the corner of the classroom and sat on the desk across from the one Donghyuck was currently wiping.

      “I’m not sure,” Donghyuck said after a moment’s hesitation, “But what I’m trying to say is…” He looked at Mark for a moment then away. “I want to be your friend, Mark.”

      “But you…” Mark started, frustrated before realizing what Donghyuck said. “Oh, oh I see.” That was the last time they cleaned classes separately until the end of their detention period. On the tenth day, they were cleaning the music room when Donghyuck got behind the piano. He gave Mark an exaggeratedly grave look then he started dramatically crushing the keys and singing off-key. “Stop that, you’ll get us into trouble!” Mark said.

      “We’re already in detention.” Donghyuck deadpanned.

      “I know, but it’s the last day.” Mark could have sworn Donghyuck looked a little sad upon the reminder. He played a deep note on the piano, but softly this time. “Mark… hyung,” Donghyuck started, his face twisting as he said the word _hyung_. Mark realized that was the first time he referred to him as his hyung, Mark had never thought about it since honorifics didn’t matter much to him, but they should matter to Donghyuck. Then he said, “You could sit with us at lunch tomorrow… if you want.”

      “Yes… I mean okay. And you can just call me Mark, I don’t care.” Mark said. Donghyuck, with a small smile on his lips, started playing something that Mark immediately recognized as the Canadian national anthem. Mark didn’t know if he was more shocked about the fact that Donghyuck could actually play the piano or the fact that he knew how to play the national anthem of Canada on the piano. “Whoa!” Mark breathed.

      “Well,” Donghyuck said as he paused his fingers on the piano keys. “Don’t you know the lyrics to your own national anthem?”

      Mark burst out laughing when he realized that Donghyuck wanted him to sing. Donghyuck did not appreciate Mark’s attitude and he went back to attacking the keyboard with his fists. Mark knew only one way to get him to stop: He started singing.

      That night when Mark got onto his knees, he gave thanks for his health, for his family. He prayed for good grades and to stay out of trouble and to always make it to class on time for his grandparent’s sake. When he got into bed he realized that he had forgotten to pray for his parents to take him back to Canada. He closed his eyes and for the very first time in a very long time, he felt happy.

      Now school was Donghyuckless, and today, for Mark’s emotional well being, that was a good thing. So today, Mark was in a good mood and he would try to keep it that way. His boss had agreed when Mark asked if he could take a couple of days off and pull a double shift on Wednesday instead. He had only started the job a few weeks ago, but the hours were flexible, which was part of what attracted him to taking it, well, that, plus the fact that it was a mere ten minute walk from the university a certain someone attended… But that wasn’t important today. He usually worked from 2 to 8 on weekdays and sometimes he took a morning shift on weekends, but since he only had 5 classes on Wednesday, one of the perks of being a senior, he could pull a double shift and work until 12 AM. His parents wouldn’t like it if they knew, but his grandparents found hard work to be a man’s best trait and they were proud of him. Mark had two plans, the first was the one he told himself he was carrying out, which was that he would have a great day today, a day free from any emotional struggle and tomorrow he would have gathered enough strength to deal with his… feelings. The second plan was one he kept hidden in the very back of his mind, it was that he would work himself to the bone, which would leave no room for introspection.

      He was early and he didn’t feel up for any small talk yet, much less the wrath of his friends whom he had ruthlessly disregarded for two whole days, so he went to the one place his friends wouldn’t expect him to be in at this time on a Monday: class.

      He settled into his desk at the very back of the classroom and propped his feet up. The song he was listening to ended and he skipped the one that played next before Stevie Wonder even started singing the first _Sunny_. He was about to set his phone on the desk when an upbeat pop song he didn’t recognize started blaring into his ears, the title read: **Give Love a Second Chance**. He definitely hadn’t downloaded this song, he had never even heard it before. The singer’s high-pitched voice grated against his eardrums and he couldn’t seem to pause it or skip to the next song no matter how many times he tapped on the screen. He pulled out the earphone cord only to have the song change suddenly. He let out a sigh of relief, but then another old pop song he had never heard before started, this time the title was: **Love is in the Air.** Mark groaned and shut off his phone, placing it into his back bag. He was in a sour mood by the time students began to pile into the classroom. His friends interrogated him about where he was all weekend. He told them he wasn’t feeling well and the mixture of the finality of his tone and the teacher walking in drove them to give up. When class ended, he wordlessly picked up his bag and allowed himself to be immersed in his friends’ chatter. They were at the lockers, one of the guys needed to pick up a book when music started to steadily grow in volume from somewhere near them. Mark heard the lyrics to a song he recognized as REO Speedwagon’s **Can’t Fight This Feeling** :

_~What started out as friendship, has grown stronger_

_I only wish I had the strength to let it show~_

      He threw his back bag on the ground and stabbed his arm through the small opening in the zipper, the friction pushed his white shirt up to his elbow as he searched for his phone. He fished his phone out and turned it off again, but not before the students in the hall heard. Some girls giggled and a few guys looked at him like he had grown a second head. His friends told him that this would never have happened if he used an iPhone. He patted his knees down while getting up to remove at dust his pants might have gathered. He couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching him.

      It didn’t happen again until Mark was in PE class. Mark was doing his best to give himself a day off without missing school. So he told his physical education teacher that he wasn’t feeling well today, which he thought was very clever of him as it helped make the whole thing more believable for his friends as well. When the teacher told him he could watch the class from the side, his mood lifted considerably. He was sitting on the floor and resting his back against one of the benches. His phone a dead weight in his pocket. He wished he had brought his old iPod with him today, that way he might have been able to listen to music _of his choosing_. He took his phone out of his pocket only to plug in his earphone cord, which helped diminish the sound of whatever love song his phone was playing now. He kept both the phone and the earphones in his pocket to further muffle the offending music, whose volume stubbornly turned itself up. Being in the school’s gym wasn’t great for the success rate of his plan. This was where things got complicated a couple of years back. It was where he and Donghyuck had been in the same class at the same time back when Mark was a sophomore. It was the same year when Mark kept catching himself staring at Donghyuck when he wasn’t looking. The year he would scold himself every time his eyes lingered on the other boy’s lips. Since the gym was big enough for two different classes to be held in it simultaneously, he and Donghyuck had had fifth period PE together. Well, not technically together, their teachers split the gym into two halves. One was for the sophomore students while the other was for the freshman students. The two classes’ students collectively stretched together in the beginning of each class, however, before splitting up. Mark almost always got into trouble at the beginning of each PE class that year for laughing too hard at Donghyuck’s ridiculousness. Donghyuck, on the other hand, never got into trouble. He was a master of keeping his face blank and his posture casual even if a split-second beforehand he had his nose scrunched and his eyes crossed as he pirouetted around Mark when their teachers weren’t looking.

      Mark tried to keep his thoughts in control as he hugged his knees close to his chest, the bench dug painfully into his back. He knew it would be impossible to keep his thoughts clear of Donghyuck, not here. This was where Mark had realized that his feelings towards Donghyuck weren’t exactly limited to friendly. That was also when he decided to put some distance between himself and the other boy. He absentmindedly ran his fingertips up and down the skin of his right shin, where the bone had gotten fractured all those months ago. It was in the middle of PE class in his sophomore year. Mark didn’t remember how he fell, but he did remember how one moment Donghyuck was all the way across the gym and the next he was by Mark’s side. He remembered the pain vividly, of course he did; it had been the first time he had been in so much physical agony, after all. But he also remembered frantic hands fussing over his cheeks, his head, the back of his neck, his shoulders, his upper arms, finally finding the back of Mark’s hands and gripping them. He remembered a pair of concerned eyes pinning him in place, distracting him from the very reason behind their concern. The two of them were alone for some time, as the teacher was on the phone with Mark’s grandmother and the other students were dismissed. Jeno, Jaemin, and Renjun took some convincing from Donghyuck, but had eventually agreed to leave, their eyes sympathetic as they told Mark they’d see him later.

      He remembered shaking, not because of the pain like the other boy had assumed. But because he had suddenly felt overwhelmed. His mind going into overdrive, his emotions like a brick slamming against his ribs, his body reacting strangely, and it had simply been too much. It was the realization that despite what he had believed, despite what he was convinced of for all those years, he was not alone; someone cared for him deeply, and it was the person who had saved him when he had been drowning. Had guided him when he was lost. So Mark could only sit there as his body shook and silent tears slid down his cheeks. Familiar brown eyes bored into his own, comforting words filled his ears, _Your grandparents will be here soon. You’ll be all better in no time. The doctor will give you something for the pain._ Mark remembered counting the beauty marks on Donghyuck’s face then adding the ones on his neck to the number. A comforting habit he had acquired since they were kids, it always helped him regain his footing when the ground fell out from under his feet, gave him a small sense of stability when his world turned upside down. When Donghyuck saw that Mark was crying his eyes widened in shock.

      “You can squeeze my hands as hard as your leg hurts,” Donghyuck had said. “Go on, it will help.” He encouraged. Mark turned his hands over slowly until they were palm to palm. He needed to tell Donghyuck something really badly but he couldn’t really put it into words so he tried to transmit the message through the pressure of his palm against the other boy’s. He remembered feeling silly because even in the midst of everything he was worried that his hands might be sweaty. He gently pressed his open palms against Donghyuck’s, but didn’t dare entwine their fingers. The bench had dug painfully into his back all those months ago the same way it did now, except he had hardly noticed it when he was under Donghyuck’s attentive gaze. He remembered how his leg had suddenly given a painful throb and Mark had winced. That was when it happened. Donghyuck pulled his hands away from his hands only to slide them into Mark’s hair, holding his head in place. He had hesitated only for a moment before closing the distance between them and pressing his lips to Mark’s tear-streaked cheek. He stayed there for a second, two, three. Even now, Mark’s ears heated at the memory, he couldn’t imagine what shade of red Donghyuck had seen his face in that day after he pulled away. _Soft_ Mark remembers the word floating through his pain-muddled brain and his pain-muddled heart and then _cold_ because like a flash of lightning, Donghyuck had gotten up. Mark heard steps and realized what had caused Donghyuck’s rushed movement. His grandparents arrived with Mark’s PE teacher leading them into the school gym. He remembered his grandmother thanking Donghyuck for staying with Mark. He remembered Donghyuck’s polite reply. He remembered leaving Donghyuck without a single word.

      He was struggling with his crutches the next morning when Jeno ran over to help him. Mark had hardly gotten any sleep the night before. His leg in its cast weighed him down, so did the magnitude of what he felt for Donghyuck. They met up with the other boys in the hall near Mark’s class. Mark’s eyes met Donghyuck’s for less than a second before flitting away. He was still embarrassed and didn’t know how to thank Donghyuck without embarrassing himself further. The opportunity presented itself when Renjun asked him if he felt a lot of pain. He told them he was taking painkillers and that it wasn’t so bad anymore, he then quickly looked at Donghyuck and muttered, “Thanks for yesterday, by the way, for… staying with me.” He added unnecessarily. Donghyuck was studying him with a strange expression. “I should go,” Mark heard himself let out a sound that was too awkward to be a real laugh. “Class.” He added, pointing towards his classroom.

      “Do you need help?” Donghyuck asked in a small voice.

      “No, no, really you’ve done more than enough.” He said, still not looking anywhere near Donghyuck. “I can take it from here.”

      During lunch, Mark was nibbling at his sandwich, only half-paying attention to the conversation when suddenly he heard a wet sound followed by Jeno shrieking. When he looked up he found his friends roaring with laughter.

      “I can’t believe you kissed me!” Jeno yelled at Donghyuck, holding his cheek. Donghyuck just shrugged and went back to his food. Mark put his sandwich down.

      That day Mark made more of an effort to get closer to some of his classmates, who in the matter of days became the group of friends he sat with at lunch instead of with Donghyuck, Jeno, Jaemin, and Renjun like he normally did. Over the following weeks, his friendship with Donghyuck grew awkward and by the time his leg healed the awkwardness thawed but the distance between them was tangible. Mark had carefully created that distance himself. He couldn’t go back to the way things used to be, not after getting a taste of what he had not even allowed himself to fantasize about. Mark regretted it every day, but he knew the other boy did not feel the same way he did. Mark had allowed himself to get carried away in a state of vulnerability. Donghyuck was always too open with his emotions, too giving, too caring. It was obvious that he would have done what he had done that day for any one of his friends. Mark wasn’t special; he was the opposite of Donghyuck. He was inhibited by nature, clumsy in his actions and with his heart. What Donghyuck had done so casually had shaken Mark to his core and he couldn’t stand the thought of falling deeper while Donghyuck watched from shallow waters.

      The bell rang; the nagging sound salvation from Mark’s quicksand memories. The students piled out of the gym. He told his friends he had already eaten and so they left for lunch without him. He pulled his phone out of his pocket to check if it was still possessed by a lovesick ghost. He found that Stevie Wonder’s _Sunny_ was playing and that he had regained control over his phone. Mark put his earphones in. He was no longer having a good day.

 


	7. Now Give Me a Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haechan's Tuesday.

      Haechan had always known he was lucky. He was always the smartest in his class. His parents were easy going, letting him do whatever he wanted and never paying close attention. He had the best younger brother anyone could hope for. And he had two great groups of friends. When Mark came into his life--, no, when he invited Mark into his life and Mark had accepted , he felt all the more certain that good luck was on his side. The older he grew, the more convinced he became of his good luck. He loved all of his friends, but he knew that what he felt for Mark was a little different. He didn’t mind stealing glances at the other boy in the hallways and during lunch. He didn’t mind that it was only him who stared in fascination as the other obliviously unpacked his books into his locker or drank from the water fountain or chewed his food. He didn’t mind that he always felt the need to vie for the other boy’s attention in fact, he enjoyed it. Haechan was convinced that there was nothing as rewarding as making Mark Lee laugh. He understood why Mark had moved on from him and the others and made friends his own age. He had expected it. Mark was bound to outgrow them. Haechan was surprised it even took him that long. It was hard to admit, but he suspected he might have been part of the reason. Although it hurt, he knew he had to give Mark his space, since it was his own clinginess that had caused Mark to push him away in the first place. But a year later, he grew restless. That was when he got the brilliant idea of skipping one grade to catch up with Mark. That way, he would get to spend more time with him and Haechan would have more to look forward to than the fleeting moments when they said hello to each other in the school hallways. When Haechan was congratulated for his genius allowing him to finish high school two years early and start applying to college, he was crushed. But he understood because life had been too kind to him and it made sense for his luck to run out eventually. He understood, he really did.

      But what Haechan couldn’t understand was why Jeno was being so impatient with him when he had done nothing to warrant such crass treatment. Sure he had called and texted him a few times between today and yesterday, but it wasn’t like the number of texts and calls was close to a three digit number yet… at least when not combined. He threw himself onto the couch in the common room and texted again:

Will Mark be at the café later today? He wasn’t there yesterday and I need to know if he will be today… for science.

[sent 1:55 PM]

      He let out an incredulous sound when Jeno replied to him with the middle finger emoji, _the nerve_. He ignored Yuta’s goodbye as he left. Haechan was now alone in the dorm. Since he had nothing better to do, he decided to deal with Jeno face to face. And who knows, maybe Mark would be there after all.

      He chose to sit at a table in the corner, which allowed him a clear view of the entire café. He wore a plain blue hoodie with a pair of black skinny jeans and white sneakers. He had his laptop and one of his textbooks opened in front of him. He texted Jeno again and got a reply 20 minutes later. It was a voice message of Jeno yelling that Mark did not have a shift today and for Haechan to stop texting him. Haechan mostly pretended to study after that. He doodled on the margins of his book. He knew Jeno was probably at dance practice, now, which was why it was so noisy in the background of his voice message. The only other people currently at the café were two baristas and Yuta’s idiot, Yoonoh, who was mostly hidden from Haechan’s view as he typed furiously into his laptop while bobbing his head to the song that blasted loudly through his headphones. An hour or so passed before the door opened again, Haechan sat up expectantly then sank down in disappointment as three guys he didn’t know walked in. Two of them were unfairly tall, while the third looked like he was about average height. One of the tall ones was also unfairly large and, as Haechan would later come to discover, unbelievably loud.

      He focused on the sketch he was working on of Jeno being chased by rabid dogs when he heard something that made him nearly fall out of his chair. He looked up to look for the source of the horrible noise only to find the giant of the trio clutching his stomach, his smile wide, showing an impossible number of teeth. He was… laughing. The tall, slim one was saying something that was causing the giant’s laughter, but Haechan couldn’t hear a sound as he moved his lips. He decided to pay more attention to the door without relying on his hearing. So he played Michael Jackson music videos on his laptop and occasionally surveyed the café for Jeno or Mark.

      He saw Jeno as soon as he walked in and was next to him faster than it took the other boy to run to the room behind the cashier’s counter. “Why are you running?” Haechan asked.

      “I’m not running from you,” Jeno said, an indignant look twisting his exhausted face. “I’m late for my job? Which by the way I really really need so if you could keep your love life to yourself while I worked, it would be great thank you.” He pulled an apron over his head while he spoke rapidly, not allowing Haechan to get a single word in, “Oh and if you don’t stop texting me, I’m blocking your number.”

      “Jeno, I just need your help, I really think I messed up with M—”

      Jeno cut him off, “With Mark hyung yes, I saw his face the other day and I noticed the way you completely ignored me afterwards, which really hurt by the way, but I guess I’m not Mark hyung so it doesn’t matter as much.” He stopped and sighed. Haechan’s chest stung while he noted that Jeno’s hair was still shower-wet and he smelled like soap. “Follow me, Haechan.”

      So Haechan did. He felt inadequate as Jeno wiped one table after another and he just watched as he walked with him. When he tried to help, Jeno told him his help would only get Jeno into trouble with his boss so Haechan stopped. “That’s not true, you know, what you said about you not mattering as much as Mark.”

      Jeno smiled mischievously, surprising Haechan, and said, “I know,” Then he stood up straight and tilted his head towards Haechan a little, then he tapped his cheek while he looked at Haechan from the corner of his eyes. “Now give me a kiss.” This became an inside joke of theirs after Haechan had randomly kissed Jeno one day during lunch break in their freshman year. It was a clumsy attempt at nonchalance from Haechan, a show he wanted to put on for Mark in order to put him at ease for Haechan being too reckless the day before and kissing Mark without thinking. He had done it to distract Mark from the pain of his fractured leg or distract himself from Mark’s suffering, which of the two it had been, he’d never be sure. Mark hadn’t even seen him kiss Jeno and now Haechan was stuck with Jeno requesting kisses from him every time they got into an argument. He leaned forward to kiss Jeno, but as usual, the other boy pushed him off and they laughed, their little fight forgotten.

      “School’s been weird without you.” Jeno said and Haechan’s heart warmed.

      “I missed you guys, too.” Haechan admitted and got a spine crushing hug from Jeno.

      “You should come to dance class sometime,” Jeno said when he pulled away. “Taeyong hyung brings friends so I don’t see why I can’t. And Jisung really misses you. He’d like it if you were there.”

      “I’ll _text_ you for the details.” Haechan said with a wink. Jeno groaned.

      “Speaking of Jisung, I think he’s hacking Mark hyung’s phone. But I’m not sure. I caught him staring at Mark hyung by the lockers yesterday and typing onto his own phone while Mark hyung looked like he wanted his phone dead. Chenle was laughing so it can’t be anything good.” Haechan wanted to be frustrated, but he knew Jisung was doing this because he wanted him to be happy so he just shook his head and sighed deeply.

      “OH SHIT!” He heard behind him. He turned to find the trio sitting with their feet in a pool of coffee and Caesar salad. Jeno took a deep breath and moved in their direction to clean up the mess. The biggest of the three had been the one to knock everything off of the table and onto the floor. He kept apologizing to Jeno while Jeno kept telling him that it was okay, that these things happened. But the giant wouldn’t stop, he lunged for the mop in Jeno’s hand but Jeno dodged him. “Come on, please just let me help.” Haechan felt bad for the guy as Jeno stared at him and explained that he couldn’t let a customer do his job for him.

      “Sir, I can’t let you do that.” Jeno said sternly as the guy collected some napkins and began to wipe the floor with them.

      “Call me Lucas.” The guy said, smiling up at Jeno and completely ignoring his words.

      “I’m Jungwoo.” Said the tall slim one softly with a little awkward wave.

      “Kun.” Said the third guy with an embarrassed smile.

      Jeno looked pretty close to a mental breakdown so Haechan spoke in his most placating tone, “Hello, yes, nice to meet you all, I’m Haechan this is my friend Jeno. Goodbye now.” While he pulled a distraught Jeno away from Lucas and his friends and made him sit down. “He’s out for my job.” Jeno said, slowly shaking his head.

      “Relax, your boss isn’t even here,” Haechan said. “You know who else isn’t here?” Haechan prompted making Jeno roll his eyes before relenting.

      “All I know is that he wanted a couple of days off. He comes back to work tomorrow. He’ll be here from 12 to 12 so you can stalk him all you want. Although I’m pretty sure it’s illegal for a minor to work till midnight on a school night, but our boss is either a dumbass or an asshole… I haven’t decided yet.” Haechan was silent after that. “Anyway, I have to get back to work. The rest of the guys might stop by later if you want to hang out.”

      “Sure.” Haechan said. He felt happier after speaking to Jeno. He went to sit back at his table and wait for his friends only to find it already occupied by none other than Yoonoh. Haechan stood impossibly close to the guy and got no reaction whatsoever. He loudly cleared his throat only to be met by more head bobbing. “Excuse me?” Haechan said, lightly touching the guy’s shoulder. Yoonoh finally pulled down his headphones and smiled brightly up at Haechan, flashing two deep dimples. “Heeey,” Yoonoh greeted, like they were best friends. “I got tired of looking up every few seconds to check if you had come back to your table so I thought I’d just sit here and wait for you to come to me.”

      “You… need something?”

      “I wanted to ask you if you’d be willing to take a survey. I’m working on a paper that deals with the influence of certain musical lyrics on adolescents. You’re 16 right?”

      “I am.” Haechan said. “And I’ve got some time so sure.”

      “Got any other teenage friends who might agree to take it?”

      “You’re in luck, we’re 6, no 7 in total and they’re actually on their way over here.” Haechan smiled.

      “Cool, I’ll leave 7 surveys here for you and you can bring them back to me whenever you’re done. Thanks.”

      “Alright.” Haechan said. Yoonoh brought him the surveys and Haechan asked, “Can I keep one of them and bring it tomorrow or the day after? One of my friends won’t be here today.”

      “I’m here pretty much every day this week, so it’s cool. I’ve got a lot of papers to work on before midterms start.”

      “Okay.”

      “Your laptop needs an update, by the way.” Yoonoh said with a wink when he was halfway across the café to his own table. _What an asshole_ , Haechan thought. Yuta was right; the guy was a criminal in the making. When Haechan looked at his laptop, he found that Yoonoh had watched half of his music video playlist. He was having second thoughts about helping him with the surveys. Haechan got a text from Jisung asking him if he needed something from home. He texted back:

I’m good :)

PS: stop hacking Mark.

[sent 5:05 PM]

      Jisung and Chenle arrived first. Jisung ran to Haechan but paused when he got close. Then he blinked twice and quirked his head. Haechan felt a sharp stinging pain in his left upper arm; the demon child had _flicked_ him.

      “OW!” Haechan yelled and Jisung laughed and attack-hugged his brother. When they had gotten their drinks, they settled across from Haechan.

      “So did you tell Mark you love him yet?” Jisung said casually.

      Haechan choked on air, “I don’t love him—and what the hell, right in front of Chenle?”

      “Everyone knows you love him, Haechan, you call him the love of your life all the time.”

      “Not in front of Chenle I don’t.”

      “Yeah you do.” Chenle said.

      “You do.” Jisung repeated. Haechan sighed, “I’ve got homework for you kids, now work on it quietly, and each person focus on your own paper, no copying okay?” Haechan pushed two surveys towards them. They started filling them in quietly until they reached the second page and started laughing and bumping fists, it was chaos and so Haechan put a stop to it. “What’s going on?” They showed him a page full of dirty lyrics.

      “Seriously?” Haechan got up to yell at Yoonoh. When he got to him and vocalized his concern, Yoonoh shrugged, “They listen to that stuff anyways so what’s the problem?”

      “They’re fourteen and fifteen years old!”

      “Well, that’s the point of my research. How explicit lyrics describing drug use or sex influence teenagers, that’s ages 13 to 19. You could have taken a look at it before handing it to them, you know. Everything is clearly stated in the beginning of the survey.” Yoonoh said in monotone. Haechan found he had no counter argument and went back to his table, defeated by an idiot. On his way there, he saw Lucas with a survey of his own, his face beet red behind a large hand as he read the questions. Jungwoo and Kun, on the other hand filled in the answer slots calmly.

      “JAEMIN YOU CAN’T RUN IN HERE!” Jeno bellowed from behind the counter. A breathless Jaemin shouted back, “BET YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO YELL EITHER!”

      “THEN STOP YELLING!” Jeno yelled.

      “DO YOUR HOMEWORK, JENO!”

      “They’re so cute,” Haechan said to no one in particular. Before he knew it Jaemin was grabbing his shoulders, “He’s on his way here.”

      “Who?” Haechan asked, his heart lodged somewhere in his throat.

      “Mark,” Jaemin breathed. “Renjun noticed him while we were walking here and I said I needed to pee badly and ran while Renjun slowed him down a bit for you.”

      “What am I going to do?” Haechan had his head in his hands. Jisung seemed to be distressed too as he pushed his hands against his ears then pulled them away quickly as though his mind was exploding.

      “Just tell him you love him.” Jisung offered.

      “NO!” Jaemin and Chenle yelled in unison. Jaemin took a breath. “Ask him to hang out. Sometime soon. Be casual, but also show him you care.”

      “Okay, I’ll do my best,” Haechan tried to calm his breathing. “How do I look?” He asked.

      “Meh,” Jisung said, moving his hand in a so-so gesture, and Chenle nodded in agreement. Jaemin looked at Jisung angrily for half a second, causing Jisung to tuck in his chin and give Jaemin his most innocent puppy eyes. Jaemin then smiled and ruffled his hair, completely forgetting the damage done to Haechan’s ego just seconds before.

      “You look great. You’ve got this.” Jaemin beamed after he was done petting Jisung. “Now sit down and act normal.” Haechan sat down and crossed his legs, then uncrossed them. He tried man spreading, but then decided he was kind of overdoing it. He leaned on the table, then sat back. He caught Chenle judging him and slumped down in his chair. This was going to be horrible.

      When Mark walked in, he said something to Renjun before going to the room in the back. Renjun ran to them. “RENJUN YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO RUN IN HERE!” Jeno yelled. Renjun’s face twisted in distaste, “Why’s he yelling?” He asked Jaemin, who shrugged and said, “He’s really stressed out.”

      “Haechan wait for Mark by the door,” Renjun instructed. “He’s just grabbing his apron and leaving, he said something about needing to wash it before his shift tomorrow.”

      “Won’t that be creepy though?”

      “There’s no time just go!”

      “GO!” Jeno yelled from across the café, “GO!” he was gesturing to Haechan, the towel in his hand flailing wildly in the air. He either had super hearing or Haechan was more hopeless than he had originally thought. He forced himself to walk to the counter and waited there. “You done with the surveys?” _Great, the idiot was here_.

      “Go talk to them,” Haechan snapped, pointing towards his table where Jaemin, Renjun, Jisung, and Chenle now sat. “Leave me alone, I’m busy.” Yoonoh raised his eyebrows and left.

      It was impossible to read Mark’s expression when he came out of the room and saw Haechan standing there. First he just looked shocked, but then something more complicated and heavy covered his surprise; it almost looked like the acceptance of something inevitable, but Haechan couldn’t gauge whether that something was good or bad. But he assumed it was bad from the tired look in Mark’s eyes as he regarded him.

      “Hi.” Haechan said.

      “Hello, Haechan.” Mark replied, his voice was distant and it betrayed no emotion.

      “Please call me Donghyuck.” Haechan said, his voice sounding small to his ears.

      “But I thought—”

      “It’s true that everyone does call me Haechan now,” Haechan interrupted. “But I’d like it if you still called me Donghyuck,” Haechan prayed for bravery as he met Mark’s hesitant eyes. “If that’s okay.” He added.

      “Okay.” Mark said as he lowered the sleeves of his long-sleeved gray cotton shirt and rubbed up and down his arms even though it wasn’t cold. A moment passed, Mark tossed his bundled apron from one hand to the other, his hair was tousled like he’d been sleeping before he remembered that his apron was at the café.

      “Do you—” They started at the same time, then stopped. Nervous smiles flew between them. “You first.” Mark said and Haechan’s stomach twisted.

      “Well, I was wondering if you wanted to hang out.”

      “Sure, it’s been a while.” Mark said. He started moving towards the table where everyone was pretending not to watch their exchange. Haechan blocked Mark’s path. “Just the two of us, I meant, just us to… to… catch up.” He finished lamely.

      Mark regarded him carefully before saying, “I’m free now if you are.” Mark said coolly.

      “I am… do you have somewhere in mind or do you just want to walk around?”

      “Show me your campus, it’s close by right?” Mark said, taking Haechan by surprise.

      “It’s a ten minute walk from here,” Haechan said. “Just let me grab my stuff.” Together they walked to the table where Haechan quickly pulled his laptop and textbook into his back bag and a couple of surveys for him and Mark. Haechan got an idea and hoped it would work, “You can keep your apron in my bag for now if you want.”

      “Yeah okay.” Mark handed him the green bundle and Haechan carefully placed it inside. He could have sworn he caught Jeno winking at Mark when he lifted his eyes. He would ask about _that_ later.

      It was awkward at first, neither one of them said anything. But then Haechan remembered the list of things he wanted to know, the list his regret burned through his brain. He asked, “Do you still write in school food?”

      Mark looked at him like he had suddenly turned into a potato, which, if he was being honest with himself, he wished he had. “Do I what?”

      “I meant to ask, wait. Oh god why am I being like this.” The last part he had meant to think rather than say. It was fucked anyway so he just kept going, “Do you still write?”

      “You remember?” Mark’s lips spread into a tiny smile, which eased the depression under his lower lip a little. Haechan wondered what would happen if he put the pad of his thumb against it and pressed. “I haven’t written in a while. I guess I haven’t been feeling inspired lately.”

      “Well, you should find a source of inspiration fast.” Haechan fired back and Mark laughed. “You’re too good to stop.”

      This felt right, them talking comfortably. The tension in Haechan’s chest eased a bit. “Whatever you say,” Mark replied. “You’re the genius.” And the tension was back.

      “I guess I am…” Their voices were mere whispers under the warm orange light of the quickly setting sun.

      “How long have you known?” Mark asked, his voice still devoid of emotion.

      “My whole life.” He knew the question Mark was going to ask next and he prepared for it.

      “Why keep it a secret?”

      “I wanted to have a normal life.” His automatic answer.

      “And what changed?” Mark stopped walking to fully look at Haechan, who took his time answering; he didn’t usually get a follow-up question. _I wanted to spend more time with you?_ He tried in his head, _I wanted to be your equal. Because I l—_

      He settled for a simplified version of the truth, “I guess I got greedy.” Mark made a noncommittal sound at that and continued walking.

      “Have _you_ started applying to any schools?” Haechan asked.

      “I have, actually. It’s such a drag.”

      “And... Are those schools in… Korea?” Haechan asked carefully.

      “I’m not moving back to Canada, I already got the chance to years ago and I said no.” Now it was Haechan’s turn to stop dead in his tracks. He had never heard of this before. Mark was always complaining about how his parents had fooled him by telling him that it was a temporary move.

      “You said what? When did this happen?”

      “Uhumm,” Mark rubbed the back of his neck. “The 8th grade? It would have been the 7th grade for you.” Mark said although Haechan truly didn’t need the reminder. “They called me one night, they were very excited when they told me they thought I was old enough to take care of myself, which meant I could go back. But I said no.”

      “Why?” Haechan held his breath even though he probably shouldn’t.

      “Lots of different reasons… but I guess you could say I got greedy, too.” There was something intense about the way he looked at Haechan, like he was challenging him.

      He pushed down his nerves, “Hey, that’s not fair! Get vague answers of your own!” Haechan said and Mark laughed. “There it is!” Haechan realized belatedly that he said it out loud instead of thinking it. Luckily, the university campus came into view and so he pretended that that was what he was talking about rather than Mark’s open laughter. Haechan spoke grandly, putting on a show, “It may be full of lunatics, but it’s beautiful and it’s my new home that’s only 20 minutes away from my old home.”

      “It is nice.” Mark agreed. Haechan suddenly realized that Mark hadn’t told him whether or not he had applied here. He’d have to sell the place to Mark. He regretted the lunatic comment he made and tried to fix it, “I made really good friends here, and the facilities and professors are wonderful I was totally joking about the lunatic infestation, there are nooo lunatics here.” Haechan said. “We have a gym!” He added with a smile.

      “That’s great, that you made friends,” Mark said. “I saw them at the café.”

      “Do you know what you’re going to major in?” He didn’t want to talk about that awkward day, and besides, he was collecting valuable information.

      “Either history or literature? I’m not really sure yet.” Haechan thought he might soon be joining Yuta on the major crisis train _choo choo_.

      “Well, you should apply here. Not because I go here, obviously. But because it’s a good school. Really good.” He was blabbering and he knew it but he couldn’t seem to stop.

      “Already did.” Mark smiled, his eyes curving with the rise of his cheeks.

      “Oh, good.” Haechan said. “It’s a good school.” He repeated dumbly.

      “So I heard… and from a genius no less.” Mark smirked.

      Haechan’s face heated and he stared at the ground, which wasn’t practical as he was supposed to act as Mark’s guide. “You never could take a compliment.” Mark said suddenly and Haechan’s head whipped to face him, “That wasn’t a compliment, it was a fact.”

      “Then why is your face red?” Mark challenged.

      “Why is _your_ face red?” Haechan retorted.

      “It is not!”

      “Is too!”

      “Is not!”

      “Wow, it’s like you’re five years old.” Haechan muttered.

      “You started this!” Mark’s mouth hung open.

      “Ah, seriously, there he goes again.” Haechan said. Mark’s eyes widened and his eyebrows rose as he let out an incredulous laugh. He slapped Haechan’s arm over and over again. It hurt, but Haechan had missed it and so he suffered without protesting. He showed him all the different café carts and restaurants, the football field, the basketball court, the gym, the pool, the different buildings for each field, and the fountains. They were standing near a bench close to the dorms when Haechan pointed them out. Mark nodded quietly.

      “Do you want to see my room?” He asked and cringed inwardly. But Mark said yes and Haechan relaxed. “Every four students live together. We have two bedrooms, a common room, a bathroom, and a kitchen.”

      “And your friends are also your roommates?” Mark asked.

      “Yes, Doyoung, Yuta, and Ten. I share my bedroom with Doyoung, Yuta and Ten share the other bedroom.” Haechan explained as they climbed the stairs. “This is it.” He pointed at the door and reached to open it until Mark’s hand stopped him.

      “Will anyone be in there now?” Mark sounded concerned.

      “I’m not sure,” Haechan answered. “We could go somewhere else if you’d prefer?”

      “No, no. It’s cool. I want to meet them.” Mark said. Haechan pretended not to notice when Mark discreetly ran his hands through his hair and smoothed his shirt. He wanted to tell him he looked perfect, but he was scared that it might send the wrong message… or rather the right one. None of it mattered though because when Haechan opened the door, they were met by the sight of a half naked Yuta wearing his laptop like a hat in the middle of the living room. He paused mid-stride. His eyes deer-in-the-headlights wide.

      “Hi.” Haechan said awkwardly. Yuta quickly pulled his laptop off of his head and threw it onto the couch behind him. Then he bowed slightly, “Hello, I’m Yuta.” He crossed his arms in an attempt to cover himself up.

      Mark’s chest touched the back of Haechan’s shoulder as he crept closer and his hand gripped Haechan's shoulder firmly. Haechan could smell his shampoo. Was he _hiding?_ Haechan hid a smile behind a closed fist, remembering Yuta’s butt incident with Mark at the café.

      “I’m Mark…” Mark said behind Haechan, he shivered as Mark’s breath kissed his nape.

      “Yuta hyung, how about Mark and I go to my room while you put on some clothes?”

      Yuta frowned, “Since when do you call me hyung?”

      “Okaaay, we’re going now.” Haechan pulled Mark by the hand to his room, which, thankfully, was empty. “Uh, Donghyuck…” Mark said as soon as the door closed behind them and he let go of Haechan’s hand. “I’ve met Yuta before.”

      “Oh?” Haechan feigned ignorance, he didn’t know how Mark would react if he knew that his friends knew all about him.

      “Yeah… it was at the café,” Mark’s lips all but gathered into the corner of his face in concern. “I think he’s into me.”

      “Really? Did he say something?” Haechan said as he discreetly kicked his back bag under his bed.

      “W-well,” Mark stammered, his cheeks tinged pink. “He said he thought my butt was cute.”

      “Isn’t that sexual harassment?”

      “Uh, it might have been a misunderstanding I’m not sure…”

      “He’s too old for you, he’ll have to get over it,” Haechan said. “Do you want us to confront him?”

      “It’s fine, Donghyuck, really.” Mark assured Haechan. A knock sounded at the door. When Haechan opened it, Yuta poked his head in, he said, “May I borrow Haechan for a moment?” with a wide smile and he pulled Haechan, rather hard, too, without waiting for a response.

      “I need to explain myself to Mark if you two are dating now.” Yuta said, he had changed into shorts and a sleeveless black shirt. Haechan shushed him and whispered, “Don’t say that, he might hear you! We’re not dating I haven’t even told him I like him, yet!”

      “Whatever. You shouldn’t be alone with him in there anyway. Come sit in the living room, I’ll work on my essay in my room with the door open.”

      “Wow, okay, mom…” Yuta must’ve been in a weird mood because he leaned in to give Haechan a kiss on the cheek, which Haechan narrowly avoided. “What’s with you today?”

      Yuta winked and smiled dangerously, “Can’t moms kiss their sons?” He picked up his laptop and said, “And tell your boyfriend that I don’t like his butt.”

      Haechan waited for Yuta to go into his room before getting Mark to join him in the living room where they spent hours catching up. They were on opposite ends of the couch. Haechan with his legs crossed under him, facing Mark and Mark leaning his head against a throw pillow he had braced against the arm rest and his legs folded half-way and supported by the couch’s backrest, which was on his left. Haechan quickly went into his room to pull the surveys out of the bag only to push it back into the darkness under his bed.

      “A guy at the café was looking for teenagers who might be willing to take his survey, and I offered our youth to his cause.”

      “Sounds creepy. What’s the survey about?”

      “The effect of song lyrics on teenagers or something.”

      “Let’s get it!” Mark said.

      “Alright,” Haechan settled back on the couch and handed Mark the survey and a pen. “First question…” They worked on the first page quietly, but when Mark flipped the page and choked on his water, Haechan skipped the last question on the first page to see the sentence Mark was reading. “WHAT THE FUCK!” Mark giggled at Haechan’s outburst. “I let my baby brother read this!”

      “I’m sorry,” Mark said, still wiping droplets of water from his chin. Tears began to gather in the corners of his eyes. “But you should see your face right now.” Haechan grabbed the survey from Mark’s hands and threw it in the trash along with his own. He would have a strong word with Yoonoh tomorrow.

      “I can’t wait until I’m a college student.” Mark sighed, delving deeper into the cushions.

      “Me too,” Haechan said back.

      “What?” Mark sat up a little.

      “What?” Haechan parroted. “Are you hungry? I’m hungry too.”

      “No, but thank you,” Mark got up and stretched. “I should head home, I told my grandmother I would be home about two hours ago.”

      “Let me walk you back.” He offered.

      “Okay, only to the gate, though,” Mark said. “I don’t think I’d be able to find it without you, anyways.”

      When they were at the bottom of the stairs, Haechan felt bad for Yuta, so he said, “Yuta knew your name at the café because I told him who you were.”

      Mark’s mouth opened in surprise then closed, “That makes sense.”

      “Yeah… he wanted me to tell you that he doesn’t like your butt or anything, it was a misunderstanding like you said.”

      “Okay.” Mark said calmly.

      “Did you want him to like your butt?” He questioned in what he hoped was a light tone. Mark’s eyes crinkled when he smiled, “No, Donghyuck, I don’t care if he likes my butt.”

      “That’s good.” Haechan smiled.

      “And why is that good exactly?” Mark smiled back.

      “It’s just good.” Haechan shrugged and Mark held his gaze, there it was again, that look.

      “Whatever you say, you’re the one with the brains.”

      “Have you seen the size of your head?” Haechan replied.

      Mark moved to slap his arm again but this time he jumped out of the way. It didn’t seem to matter to Mark though because he used his other hand to smack him on the back really hard and then slid it up to his shoulder and kept it there while he laughed and Haechan couldn’t help but join in. A few seconds passed until Mark stopped laughing. He cleared his throat and Haechan swallowed nervously. They were at the gate. His hand was still on Haechan. For a moment, it tightened around his shoulder and he thought Mark was going to do something. Then Mark pulled his hand away and put a little more distance between them, Haechan felt himself begin to shift forward a little to close the distance between them again before he forced himself to plant his feet. _What did I think he was about to do? What was I about to do?_

      “So I’ll see you around?” Mark said at the same time that Haechan said, “Do you want to see a movie together this weekend?”

      “Yes.” Mark said the moment Haechan said, “Or see you around.”

      They both took a deep breath and sighed, exhausted. “Movie.” Mark said.

      “Okay. Movie, yes. Goodnight then.”

      “Goodnight, Donghyuck.” Mark said with a smile. And just like that he was gone. Haechan stared after him until the last moment. He unsilenced his phone and waited. He was lying on his bed 15 minutes later when his phone beeped. It was a text from Mark:

I forgot my apron in your bag :(

[received 9:30 pm]

      He texted back:

No worries, I’ll wash it and bring it

before your shift starts tomorrow :)

[sent 9:30 pm]

      Mark sent him a bunch of crying emojis and a high five followed by:

You’re the best! I guess I’ll see you tomorrow

then. And thanks for the tour, btw. I had

a lot of fun :)

[received 9:31 pm]

      Yuta came into the room and sat at the edge of his bed, “Did you have fun today?”

      “Yes,” Haechan smiled and Yuta ruffled his hair. Yuta’s hair was a mess, like he’d run his hands through it too many times, and his eyebrows were furrowed. “Everything okay?” Haechan asked.

      Yuta thought for a long moment, then smiled sweetly, “Yes, Haechanie. Everything’s fine. I’m going to sleep now, goodnight!”

      “It’s 9!” Haechan protested.

      “Are you grumpy because you want a goodnight kiss, too?”

      “No! Just go, God!” He tried to throw a pillow at Yuta’s retreating form, but missed him by a mile.

      “Say Jisung instead of God next time, he might be listening!” Ten yelled from somewhere outside the room. An argument ensued between Ten and Yuta about Ten encouraging Jisung and how it was wrong.

      Haechan got up to close the door and drown out the sound of their tedious argument so that he could go back to texting Mark in peace.


	8. I Still Don’t Know What the Fuck Foucault is on About

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuta and Taeyong really want to kiss each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fast-forward two weeks since last chapter :o

     Yuta didn’t know what Ten’s problem was today; he was getting easily exasperated by anything Yuta did. This wasn’t new, them fighting over small things, but Yuta had hardly even spent much time at the dorm lately and now Ten was steaming at the ears and nose all because Yuta had taken a bite out of his sandwich and left it out on the table. Yuta could of course explain to him that he was distracted as he had a lot on his mind these days if only Ten would let him get a word in.

     For the past few weeks, he’d been spending more or less every second of his free time with Taeyong. They were rarely alone together, though, which was both a blessing and a curse. When they were at Taeyong’s dance practices, he would mostly watch and would only join in during the times when the team was playing around. Taeyong was surprised when he found that Yuta was a good dancer. He kept questioning Yuta about whether it was true that he had never danced before. Yuta persisted that he hadn’t; he would never admit to Taeyong that he used to ‘competitively’ dance along to TVXQ’s music videos with his sister in Japan.

     They’d also gone out for food a few times, but on all of the occasions that they did both of Taeyong’s roommates had ended up inviting themselves to eat with them. Taeyong’s eyes were hesitant both times, seeking permission from Yuta. What was Yuta supposed to do? Tell them to back off and give them some space because he wanted a proper date with Taeyong? Well, he supposed that might have been an option, but he never found the courage to say it. He knew Taeyong liked him. The guy flirted relentlessly and his eyes were never bashful as he raked them up and down Yuta’s body. Often throwing Yuta into a state of confusion because he wanted to hide his face in embarrassment, but he also wanted to smirk and let his ego fly as high as it could go. He often settled on the second of the two options, although embarrassment still rose in his chest every time and he pushed it down. It wasn’t easy, especially since Taeyong never seemed to mind whether someone noticed his stares or not. Again, they were _never_ alone. It’s not like Yuta didn’t stare at Taeyong, too, but he made sure to at least be subtle about it.

     “WOULD YOU LEAVE OUR FOOD ALONE?” Ten shouted at Yuta for what seemed like the thousandth time.

     “I don’t mind his obsession of taking one bite out of my food, leave me out of this,” Doyoung said from the couch behind them. “And could you keep it down? I’m trying to study.” Ten ignored him.

     “Get your own damn food!”

     “I have my own food, I was just distrac—”

     “Why would you eat mine then?”

     “Ten, I’ll buy you a sandwich if that’s what you want, hell, I’ll buy yo—”

     “Don’t you dare say ten sandwiches!” Ten warned.

     “I wasn’t going to!”

     “I’m trying to study!” Doyoung repeated.

     “Then go to the library.” Yuta said flippantly.

     “Where’s Haechan?” Ten asked suddenly. “Let’s see what he has to say about his food being eaten. He’s a growing boy, have you no conscience?” Yuta rolled his eyes.

     “I’m leaving,” Haechan yelled from his room. “Meeting the love of my life again today wish me luck!”

     “Luck for what?” Doyoung yelled back.

     “I’m going to tell him I like him today.”

     “He knows!” Ten and Yuta yelled at the same time. “Don’t agree with me right now.” Ten snapped. Yuta felt a headache forming from the excessive eye rolling he was doing.

     “No, he doesn’t.” Haechan yelled. It sounded like he was struggling with something so Yuta went to take a look. It was just an excuse to get away from Ten’s dark energy, really. His plan failed because Ten followed him to the room.

     “Didn’t you tell us you two held hands at the movies?” Yuta questioned. Haechan was in fact struggling. He had one shoe on and was hopping on one leg while he pulled a sock on his other foot. His jacket was only halfway on and it made the process of getting his sock on look dangerous. “What are you doing?”

     “Getting ready.” Haechan looked at Yuta like he was being idiotic. Yuta walked up to him and poked his arm very lightly, which caused him to lose his balance and fall face-first onto the bed, “I hate you.” He said as he pushed off the mattress. His eyes were slits.

     “Tell me about Mark?” Yuta said, flopping down on the bed next to him.

     “We did hold hands,” Haechan started, sitting up and shrugging off his jacket to focus on getting his sock on. “But then…”

     “Then?” Yuta promted.

     “Before I say it,” He started. “I just want to clarify that despite my genius, I am a self-proclaimed dumbass.”

     “We know!” Doyoung yelled from the living room.

     “Not just self-proclaimed!” Added Ten.

     “What happened?” Yuta asked gently. Haechan squirmed a little; he was clearly uncomfortable with sharing this detail of his not-date-date with Mark.

     “Well, we were in line for snacks when it happened,” Haechan started. “I wanted to pay, but he insisted that he should and he came up with some lame excuse like ‘I’m older than you’ or whatever…

     “Then I told him that in a few months, when I turn seventeen, we’d be the same age for two months and he said ‘not in Korea we won’t’ and I reminded him of his Canadianness, which he all but ignored and—”

     “Short version please,” Ten said. “I want to continue yelling at Yuta.”

     “Anyways, he grabbed my hand to stop me from reaching for my wallet and kept his hand in mine as he paid. He didn’t let go for a few minutes until…”

     “Until…” Ten and Yuta said at the same time.

     “I SAID STOP AGREEING WITH ME!” Ten yelled, staring at Yuta from the corners of his eyes.

     “In what world does that constitute as agreement?” Yuta said incredulously.

     “Just stop.” Ten said. Yuta was feeling murderous. Haechan forgotten, he rose to his full-height and went to face Ten, “If you don’t calm down--” He started, nose flaring.

     “You’ll what?” Ten said, equally pissed.

     “Guys…” Doyoung warned. Haechan slipped from the dorm silently, neither one of them had even noticed him.

     “Now look at what you’ve done!” Ten yelled in Yuta’s face. For a long moment Yuta considered shoving Ten, but he didn’t want to be the one to start the fight so he waited. When Ten didn’t do anything else, he puffed out an angry breath and stormed out of the dorm.

 

 

 

      Taeyong was going crazy. He pushed his face into his pillow to muffle a frustrated scream. This had to be the fiftieth time for him to read the same sentence, but he still couldn’t understand a single word of it. He simply lacked focus. Two meters away from him laid the offending textbook, which he had thrown in a fit of anger a second before.

      “Are you being attacked?” Sicheng said, his head peeking into the room while the rest of his body remained hidden by the doorframe.

      “I can’t focus,” Taeyong said, his face still squished into the pillow. “Don’t go there.” He warned when he felt the mockery flying off of Sicheng.

      “But you make it so easy.” Sicheng whined, coming into their room and throwing himself down on his own bed. Taeyong turned towards him, “I have a midterm three days from now and I still don’t know what the fuck Foucault is on about.”

      “Why did you even take philosophy?”

      “When Yoonoh was talking about it, he made it seem so interesting. But it’s actually gibberish.”

      “Have you considered the possibility that you’re the one lacking the brain cells for it?” Taeyong regretted throwing his thick textbook on the ground because now he had nothing to throw at Sicheng, at least nothing that would hurt him.

      “It’s just that I’m distracted.”

      “Ooooooh.” Sicheng said, suggestively wiggling his eyebrows.

      “Are you nine?”

      “I might be,” He deadpanned. “You should ask Yoonoh to help you.”

      “Nah,” Taeyong said. “He’ll just make fun of me.”

      “That’s true,” Sicheng agreed, resting his head on one of his arms. “Ask him anyway, it’ll be fun.”

      “As much as I’d love to make my pain and embarrassment the source of your entertainment, I think I’ll pass.” Sicheng made a disappointed sound. A few moments passed in silence. Taeyong could tell Sicheng had something on his mind from the way he was fidgeting, but he waited instead of asking. Waiting Sicheng out was usually the only way to get him to speak. Taeyong was picking his textbook up off the floor when Sicheng finally spoke, “So that’s all over now, right?”

      “What’s all over now?” Taeyong asked, lowering the book down on the carpeted floor and moving closer to Sicheng. He sat at the edge of his bed and waited again. It took Sicheng half a minute to collect his thoughts, “You and Yoonoh?” Taeyong felt his face heat up. _Did Sicheng really know?_

      “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

      “You liked him, didn’t you?”

      “I…” Taeyong started, but he was saved from having to finish answering when a knock sounded at the door. “I’ll get that.” He smiled awkwardly at Sicheng and left.

      He found Taeil had already opened the door and was talking to whoever was on the other side. “It’s for you,” Taeil said. “I’ll see you later.” He spoke to whoever was out in the hall and went back to his and Yoonoh’s room, closing the door behind him.

      It was Yuta. He smiled brightly at Taeyong while he tugged at his sleeves, “You weren’t answering my texts, but I thought I’d drop by anyway. If you’re busy I could go…”

      “No, I’m not busy at all.” Taeyong said quickly. He pulled Yuta into the living room by his sweater and motioned for him to sit on the couch. He then went to the fridge and got himself and Yuta two bottles of water. “I was actually trying to study, but it wasn’t going anywhere so I gave up.”

      “When’s your exam?”

      “Three days from now.”

      “You should study, I’ll go.” Yuta was about to get up, but Taeyong was lightning fast as he pulled him down again.

      “I told you I wasn’t really understanding the material. It’s philosophy, I’m no good at stuff like that, I don’t know why I even took it.” Taeyong knew why he took it, but he wasn’t about to tell Yuta he had a huge crush on Yoonoh and wanted to use the course as an excuse to get closer to him.

      “I’ve taken some philosophy classes,” Yuta said. “It’s one of my favorite subjects maybe I can help?”

Taeyong considered it for a long moment. If he was going to spend time with Yuta there were many things he would rather do than try to figure out panopticism. “Fine,” He said finally. “But we’re not doing it here. These walls have eyes... and ears.” He ran quickly into his room to exchange his sweatpants for a pair of ripped skinny jeans and threw a light blue hoodie over his thin shirt. He almost opened the door, but he remembered his textbook and quickly stuffed it into a back bag. He reemerged to find Taeil engaged in a conversation with Yuta. Yuta was nodding vigorously and Taeil high fived him. They had become fast friends the past two weeks, Yuta seemed closer to Taeil than Taeyong and his friends had ever come and they lived with the guy. Once Taeil saw Taeyong, he went back into his room. “He loves me.” Taeyong said and Yuta smiled sympathetically before asking, “Where are we going?”

      “I know a nice spot for studying,” Taeyong said. “Believe it or not, it’s outdoors.” And Yuta feigned surprise. Over the time they spent together, Taeyong came to learn that Yuta, unlike Taeyong, preferred being outside. Taeyong and his friends usually only left the dorm for food or for classes. Yuta, on the other hand, spent his time breathing in the fresh air, under the sun, the rain, or the stars. It almost made nature sound appealing to Taeyong… Almost. Taeyong remembered the first time he invited Yuta to his dorm and Yoonoh decided that they should all play Overwatch together. It was nice of him, Taeyong thought, to try to include Yuta into their little group. But when Yuta had agreed to play and bragged about how he had never played before but he was sure he would easily defeat them all, Yoonoh lost all semblance of tolerance immediately and said that it was better if they never spoke of video games again. Then Yuta suggested that they play basketball and Yoonoh had stared at him in complete shock as he asked, “Like… Outside?” After that, they stuck to neutral topics that would not offend either party… more or less.

They stopped at the convenience store for snacks even though the vending machine was closer. Yuta had grown wary of vending machines now that he and Yoonoh had become as close to friendly as they’ll ever get. They sat on the grass under the shade of a particularly large oak, leaning their backs against it. Taeyong had found this spot randomly one night when he couldn’t sleep and had needed to clear his head. He noticed this oak because it was close to a bank of flowers in full bloom. He unzipped his back bag; leaving the snacks they had bought inside but pulling out the textbook and handing it to Yuta. He stared for a moment at the thin silver chain that disappeared down the blue neckline of Yuta’s black sweatshirt then his eyes slid down before he could control them. Yuta’s jeans clung so well to his strong thighs that Taeyong was grateful when Yuta opened his textbook, covering them from sight.

      Taeyong really liked Yuta. And he was sure he’d made as much clear with his constant flirting. All he got in return was knowing smiles and expert level changing of subjects. He wasn’t sure if he should initiate physical contact or if Yuta wanted time before getting physical. He didn’t even know if Yuta wanted him to touch him. He wanted to be certain that Yuta was comfortable with him, that Yuta wanted him too.

      “The football team practices near here.”

      “What?” Taeyong said, his mind was miles away.

      “The university’s football team, I’m thinking of trying out for it.” Yuta said, Taeyong noted that the blue in his hair covered little more than the tips now.

      “Wait. We have a football team?”

      “What did you think that football field was for?” His eyes smiling and his mouth parted. Taeyong thought he had never been mocked in a more beautiful way before.

      “Oh!” Taeyong said, coming to his senses. “Come to think of it, I do remember Sicheng attending a tournament with Kun once.”

      “Sicheng went to a football match?” Yuta sounded skeptical. He really was getting to know them well.

      “That might have been a video game thing, actually, never mind.” Yuta just shook his head before saying, “So, which are the chapters that are included in the exam again?”

 

 

      Yuta needed to stop ogling at Taeyong. It’s been about thirty minutes since he started going over Taeyong’s midterm material with him but he had been suffering for longer than that. The moment Taeyong walked out of his room in a pair of jeans that had too many holes in it for Yuta’s sanity and a light blue hoodie with the words **Unicorns and Rainbows** printed on it, he’d become a nervous wreck. The juxtaposition of the phrase and the soft color against the tattered jeans a perfect representation of what getting to know Taeyong was like. The man was a contradiction to whom Yuta was becoming increasingly addicted. A paradox Yuta wanted to one day fully understand, no matter how difficult Taeyong made it with his casual evasions and distractions. Then Taeyong suggested they leave the dorm, meaning they’d be alone together for the first time in what felt like ages. Now here they were, side by side in a park next to pink flowers that would look really good in Taeyong’s black hair---

      He had to stop thinking about Taeyong’s hair and Taeyong lips and Taeyong’s nose and Taeyong’s insanely large piercing eyes. He shouldn’t be thinking about how badly he wanted to run his fingers down his cheeks and maybe let his thumb accidentally catch his lower lip or trace the sharp line of his upper lip. No, he shouldn’t be thinking about any of these things because he knew he wasn’t brave enough to do them. “This one’s one of my favorites,” he said reading out an introductory quote by Shakespeare from the textbook. “‘There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.’”

      “Do you believe that?” Taeyong asked.

      “Not for a second.” Yuta said and Taeyong laughed then asked, “Why is it your favorite, then?”

      “It’s just interesting to me how people determine what’s right and what’s wrong differently.” He flipped the page and found that Taeyong had highlighted a quote by Laozi, “‘Knowing others is intelligence; knowing yourself is true wisdom.’” And he had to smile bitterly at the irony.

      As if Taeyong could read his mind he asked, “How come you never talk to me about your major problem?” Throwing Yuta off.

      “You know about that?” He asked, genuinely surprised.

      “Ten and Yoonoh have become friends,” Taeyong said. “Ten told him and he told me.”

      “Well, it’s kind of too late for me to change my major anyway, so I might as well just finish.”

      “Why not change it to philosophy?” Taeyong said. “You seem passionate about it and you did say you took some classes already.”

      “I suppose I could…” Yuta said.

      “Will you?”

      “Um—”

      “It’s a simple question.”

      “Not really.”

      “Fine. When are you trying out for the football team?”

      “Taeyong…” Yuta found it a bit difficult to breathe. It was slight panic that was causing it, he knew. He wasn’t used to being examined so attentively.

      Taeyong squinted his eyes and leaned closer to Yuta as if he could see the thoughts in his brain if he got close enough. Yuta tensed when he felt Taeyong’s slim fingers slide into his freshly cut hair. Taeyong’s hand stilled until Yuta relaxed, then he continued until he grasped the back of Yuta’s head. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” Taeyong whispered.

      “I don’t know.” Yuta answered, it wasn’t the truth, but it was the best he could do at the moment.

      “Guess we’ll have to find out.” Taeyong said, finally, regretfully, releasing Yuta and leaning his back against the tree once more.

      A couple of hours later, the sun was gone and so were their snacks. They had to use Yuta’s phone as a flashlight to continue studying. Taeyong had left his own phone at the dorm in his hurry to get Yuta out of there.

      “I’m almost out of battery.” Yuta said.

      “We’ve studied enough, don’t you think?” Taeyong said, not for the first time. Each time he tried to end the study session, Yuta ignored him and pushed onto the next line. Taeyong knew he was going to do well on the exam, because he finished studying more than half of the material with Yuta’s help, something that would have taken him an entire day, as he was a professional procrastinator. But Yuta thankfully relented as he turned off the light and put his phone in his pocket. Maybe it was the calm, quiet darkness that enveloped them, or maybe it was the stillness of the grass that steadied Yuta’s hands as he picked out a thin stem that carried a small flower and curled it behind Taeyong’s ear. The side of his lip lifted as he felt Taeyong shiver at his touch. Yuta moved to pull away from Taeyong, satisfied. But Taeyong grabbed his wrist and kept him close. Now the night didn’t seem so quiet as blood rushed to his ears, and the stillness of the grass did nothing to steady his hands or his heart.

      Taeyong then tilted his head to the side, fitting his cold cheek into Yuta’s burning palm, Taeyong’s own hand still circling Yuta’s wrist to keep his hand where he wanted it, his strength surprising. He turned his head until his lips brushed the middle of Yuta’s palm and he pressed a kiss there, making Yuta’s heart squeeze in his chest. He tugged his wrist free from Taeyong’s complying fingers and caged Taeyong’s head between his hands. Their lips were just seconds apart when they heard someone screaming and froze. It was just some students laughing but they pulled away from each other.

“I’m starving.” Yuta said once he calmed down.

      “Let’s go back to your dorm and order in,” Taeyong suggested. “My treat, as a thank you for today.” He gestured towards the textbook.

      “Sounds great.” Yuta said before remembering his argument with Ten and grimacing. “What is it?” Taeyong asked lightly.

      “I actually had a fight with Ten earlier today,” Yuta admitted. “I texted you about it before coming over but…”

      “I didn’t check my phone,” Taeyong finished. “It’s fine we can just go back to mine.”

      “Great.” Yuta smiled.

      Yuta was alone again with Taeyong. When they arrived at the dorm, they found both the living room and Taeyong’s room deserted. Taeil might have been in his room, but he never came out. And if Yoonoh was there, Yuta was sure he would have joined them because he loved ruining Yuta’s life.

      “The food will be here in about thirty minutes.” Taeyong declared, taking off his hoodie and throwing it on a pile of clothing in the corner of the room. Yuta was on Taeyong’s bed; pillows cushioned his back against the bedframe. The bed was narrow, but still wide enough for Taeyong to sit next to him if he wanted. Instead, he sat across from him, his knees drawn to his chest. The window was open, letting in a cool breeze. Taeyong looked like he was cold in his thin white t-shirt, but the air felt thick and hot to Yuta and he wished Taeyong would come closer.

      “Do you want to watch something?” Taeyong asked, and Yuta nodded. Taeyong finally crawled closer, closing the distance between them. He stretched his legs by Yuta’s and pulled his laptop between them. They chose a movie neither of them had seen before. Yuta wasn’t really following the plot, but the main characters kept running for some reason. He focused on the line of contact between their bodies instead, his heart pounding as Taeyong’s fingers found his own. When the food arrived and they finished eating, neither one of them suggested that they go back to watching the movie.

      Yuta was going through Taeyong’s manga collection when Taeyong started playing with the hair at Yuta’s nape. His eyes fluttered shut and he dropped the manga he had in his grasp to lean into Taeyong’s touch. Taeyong’s breath fanned across Yuta’s cheeks, Yuta found himself clutching Taeyong’s waist when lips touched his jaw. He was feeling hot, too hot and his hands were pressing desperately into Taeyong’s hips, fingers lifting the edge of his shirt to reveal no more than an inch of skin. His body was acting on its own when he felt the muscles in his arms tighten as he pulled Taeyong flush against him. His eyes reopened when the other’s breathing hitched in his ear. At the sound of the door bursting open, they sprang apart.

      Yuta was seeing red as he stared daggers at whoever it was who walked in. And of course, he found Yoonoh in the doorway, and with the audacity to look miffed, no less. Yuta rolled his eyes, puffed out a breath, and leaned back, his butt hitting the shelf hard as he crossed his arms. He was probably being too dramatic, but couldn’t the guy at least knock? Taeyong’s face was equally pissed and equally flushed as he stared at Yoonoh who kept looking back and forth between the two of them like an idiot, which he was.

“You’re here.” Yoonoh said to Yuta accusatorially. Taeyong moved quickly, shoving Yoonoh back outside the door and slamming it shut. “Hyung, why is there a flower in your hair?” Was the last thing Yoonoh said before the door slammed in his face, hiding him from Yuta’s sight. Before Taeyong could turn around, Yuta was already moving towards him, pushing him until his back collided with the door and he let out a breathy little laugh as his arms linked around Yuta’s neck. They leaned in together, lips finally meeting.

      Yuta didn’t know how much time passed until they were interrupted by another knock at the door. But it was long enough that they were both gasping for breath. It was long enough that Taeyong’s lips were bitten red and his eyes were glazed over and his hair a mess, the flower was long gone, Yuta’s mouth tasted like Taeyong and his head was spinning. “God.” Taeyong muttered in a whisper.

      “It was that good, huh?” Yuta breathed, smirking.

      “Shhhh.” Taeyong chided, but his eyes twinkled mischief. Electricity shot through Yuta’s veins when he felt Taeyong’s teeth sink into his neck lightly. He was about to retaliate when the knock sounded at the door again. A frustrated groan left his mouth and Taeyong had the nerve to laugh at him. Yuta pushed away from the door, and Taeyong, and sat on the bed. As if the distance between them could do anything to persuade his heart rate to slow. After their breathing calmed, they let Yoonoh in. Yuta only remembered to fix his shirt when he noticed Yoonoh’s eyes linger on his exposed collarbone, he couldn’t even bring himself to care enough to pretend to be embarrassed. He quickly excused himself, leaving Taeyong to do the explaining.

      He swung the door to his dorm open, his body still buzzing. Ten was sitting on the couch, holding his head in his hands and his legs jumped up and down. No one else seemed to be in. Maybe Doyoung took Haechan out for dinner? What time was it? He walked over to Ten and touched his shoulder. He stilled, then took in a sharp breath. When he looked up, his eyes were bloodshot and angry.

      “Where have you been?” Ten said in a small voice, which was much worse than if he had yelled.

      “At Taeyong’s, what’s going on?”

      “Do you not have your phone with you?”

      “My…” Yuta pulled his phone out of his pocket and pressed the button. The screen remained black. “I ran out of battery, it’s dead. Ten, what’s going on?”

      “Haechan hasn’t come home and he’s not answering our texts or calls.”

      “He’s probably with Mark—”

      “It’s one in the morning. He never stays out this late, he would have at least texted or called someone first.”

      “Did you talk to his mom?”

      “No, we didn’t want to worry her if it’s nothing.”

      “She should know. What if it’s not nothing? I’ll go look for him. Maybe he went home—”

      “No, _you_ ,” Ten’s voice was unrecognizable. “ _You_ are staying right here just in case he comes back. I’m going to help Doyoung look for him.” He added, “And charge your god damn phone.”

     Ten left Yuta in the empty dorm, fear rising like bile in his throat. He sat at the spot Ten had occupied a minute before. A flower petal fell from his hair onto the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope Haechan’s okay :’(


	9. I Could Have Been Naked

     Mark was almost done with midterms. The only exam he had left was chemistry; and it happened to be the subject he found the easiest by far. He was done revising, but he thought this was a good excuse to hang out with Donghyuck. He texted him that he was finding some difficulty with the material last night. And since it was a Sunday and he was only working the morning shift, he wondered if he would be willing to tutor him after his shift ended. Donghyuck had texted back immediately, telling him that he would meet him at the café.

     Things had almost become awkward between them once more after they went to the movies together. After what happened, Mark almost made the same mistake he’d made in sophomore year and put some distance between him and the other boy: a kneejerk reaction to his heart splintering in his chest. But Mark wasn’t going to let anything get between him and Donghyuck again. He’d rather have him in his life as just a friend than to not have him in his life at all. So he threw his pride out the window and texted him that very night saying that they should hang out again soon, this time with the rest of the guys. He even texted Jeno to tell him to join them. They all went out together the next day and things were back to the way they used to be. It felt good to get his friends back. Their friendship mended itself so quickly. He watched the wall that he’d built so carefully crumble like a sugar cube in hot tea. He didn’t care about the weight that dropped in his stomach at the movies when he realized once more that he could never have Donghyuck to himself. He decided that it was okay if he sometimes misread situations; it was okay if he got his hopes up and embarrassed himself over and over again, because Donghyuck would always clear things up for him sooner or later. All Mark had to do was wait.

     He was already awake when his alarm went off, something he’d gotten used to lately, but he still set his alarm every night out of habit. He sat up and rubbed at his face, letting the incessant sound of the obnoxious alarm fill his bedroom, drowning out the quiet. The window let in some light through the edges of the curtain and the first thing he did after getting up was to draw his curtains open, flooding the darkness out. He let his head hang, breathed in deeply, then he raised it, stretching his neck until he looked at the ceiling in front of him through half-closed eyes and he breathed out slowly. His grandparents left on a trip over a week ago, they would not be returning for a few more weeks. They told him he was responsible enough to handle the house on his own. His grandmother worried about how he would feed himself; he was notoriously known for being a bad cook. His grandfather said it was a good opportunity for him to improve, making some comment about how being good at cooking would help him with his love life. If that was the case, he had thought to himself, he was truly screwed. But they left him some money to buy food and school supplies should he need to. When he told one of his friends at school that he had the house to himself, one of them said “Lucky bastard,” and the others joined in agreement. Mark had tried to muster a cocky expression, an expression that might convince them that he agreed, that he _felt_ lucky. But really, Mark was just alone.

     He had an hour until his shift began, so he let his bathroom fill with steam before shedding his clothes. He walked to the shower, his bare feet silent on the cold tiles. The water was a bit too hot for his liking, but he let it scald his skin. He’d spent most of the night tossing and turning, running through various scenarios in his head. Like all his mornings lately, he woke up to find that his muscles were tense, his bones were aching, and his heart was weary. Worst of all, he felt cold. He forced his muscles to relax under the soothing stream. When he was done scrubbing and washing himself he wrapped a towel around his waist and walked to the sink.

     His pale figure was now in the center of the fogged up mirror. He wiped down some of the fog with his hand. He thought he looked well rested for someone who hadn’t slept for more than three hours a night for two weeks. The area under his eyes was darker than usual, and his cheeks were slightly sunken, making his cheekbones protrude more than normally did. Despite his grandfather’s expectations, his cooking hadn’t improved much. Although he still tried. He was running low on cash and he didn’t want to use any of his savings; he wasn’t that desperate yet. He wiped the mirror down again as the rapidly receding fog made a final attempt to cover him from view. This time, the mirror stayed reflective and clear.

     He used his fingers to brush his dripping hair back. His eyes looked judgmental as they regarded his reflection. He forced them to soften. Things were good, he told himself. He was doing well. He got his friends back. He got Donghyuck back. Next year, he would start university with him. Things were good. He breathed deeply and sighed. It was time for him to get ready for work. He packed a pair of jeans and a shirt for later after pulling on his work clothes.

     He still arrived early, so he went to the back and found a stool to sit on while he placed his headphones into his ears. The music and lyrics sounded hollow to him, but it was better than nothing. He kept his apron in his lap. He thought of the night Donghyuck had forgotten it in his bag two weeks ago. The next day Donghyuck brought his freshly washed apron to him and stayed at the café. Mark remembered asking him, “Don’t you have any classes?” Donghyuck had smiled then, saying that he did, but that he would rather hang around the café. That counted as flirting, didn’t it? Mark wasn’t imagining Donghyuck’s gaze following him around the café, he couldn’t have been… He wasn’t imagining the color that rose in Donghyuck’s cheeks every time Mark caught him and smiled, was he?

     But then they went to the movies. Mark had tried on everything he owned beforehand. A mountain of clothing piled on his bed. He ended up going with a plain white hoodie and light blue jeans; nothing flashy, nothing interesting. But it hadn’t mattered because Mark was feeling confident and sure of himself, of how he felt about Donghyuck and of how Donghyuck felt about him. He was ready to tell Donghyuck how he felt. He remembered his stomach bursting into a thousand dancing butterflies when he saw how good Donghyuck looked. His hair softly curled and died a light shade of brown. His skin was glowing. He had a black hoodie on with the word **Sinners** printed in red on it. He then smiled to himself, remembering his earlier association of Donghyuck with Satan himself. It was ironic how that changed, really. These days, by simply being near the other boy Mark knew he was blessed. They were arguing over which one of them should pay for the snacks and Mark eventually won, clasping Donghyuck’s warm hand in his to stop him from grabbing his wallet. Donghyuck’s arguing ceased after that. It felt right to hold his hand so he didn’t let go, his heart picked up speed and he worried about it flying away and leaving him behind. He remembered how Donghyuck squeezed his hand, a reassurance. He remembered glancing nervously towards him to see his expression. Then Donghyuck dropped his hand and said, “Isn’t that Jeno?”

     Mark frowned, not understanding for a moment, something ugly blooming in his stomach. But then he looked in the direction Donghyuck was pointing towards and there Jeno was, putting something into his pocket and waving at one of the people behind the snack bar counter. “I’ll go talk to him, you save our spot in the line.” Donghyuck said, moving towards Jeno. Mark wanted to ask him to just pretend he didn’t see him, but he watched Donghyuck go without saying anything. Jeno looked surprised to see Donghyuck. They were too far away for Mark to hear what they were saying, but the exchange looked intense. Mark’s face heated as he looked away. He was feeling too many things at once. He resisted the urge to walk out by staring down at his worn shoes. _Stay where you are. Calm down. They’re friends. We are all friends._ But the feeling that he wasn’t wanted was still nagging at him, even though it was Donghyuck who had asked him out.

     “Sir?” Someone called out. Mark snapped to attention. He was the first in line and Donghyuck still hadn’t come back. He just ordered a large popcorn and two sodas. Then he walked hesitantly to Donghyuck and Jeno. Jeno saw him first and stopped talking mid-sentence.

     “Hey.” Mark said.

     “I hear the movie’s supposed to be really good.” Jeno said with a big smile and Mark’s heart stopped.

     “What?” He remembered saying.

     Mark was too busy staring at Jeno to see Donghyuck’s expression when he explained, “Jeno’s joining us.”

     After that Mark moved on autopilot. He decided to consider the night a success so long as he didn’t lash out at anyone or storm off. He did neither. But he didn’t say a single word. He simply grunted every now and then as an answer to anything Donghyuck threw his way. After the movie ended he made up some lame excuse and left. He walked into his empty home feeling nothing short of crushed. But the next day, at his request, they all got together and hung out. He laughed with them, talked about everything from video games to music to dancing competitions to school. He didn’t tell them about his grandparents going on a trip and leaving him behind, but he wasn’t sure why.

     Now Mark forced himself to feel content, but if he was being honest with himself, he just felt exhausted. He startled when he felt someone pull one of his earphones out. He must have dozed off.

     “Mark.” Jeno shook him even though he was clearly awake now. Before he could think better of it, he pushed Jeno’s arms off of him with his forearms, “I’m awake!” He said. He knew he sounded petulant and Jeno’s shocked expression with his hands frozen in the air near Mark didn’t help.

     “Sorry.” Mark muttered, only half-meaning it and not meeting Jeno’s eyes.

     “It’s fine.” Jeno said. He hesitated, looking like he wanted to say something else, but he left. Mark pulled on his apron and started his shift.

     When he was done, he hung the apron in the back and got his clothes and books out of the locker. Once he changed, he sat at table five. Jeno was pulling a double shift again, Mark watched him wipe table after table while dancing to a non-existent beat. Mark couldn’t understand how he was passing his exams while working this often. He played his music on shuffle. Sad music drifted into his ears and he skipped it, he wanted to be in a good mood when Donghyuck got here. The next song that played was too upbeat so he skipped again. He was thinking of a reason to skip the third song when Jaemin walked in. He headed straight for an oblivious, dancing Jeno. Mark took his earphones out, giving up on music for now. They started arguing immediately. Mark was glad their boss wasn’t in today, because their argument was loud enough to disturb the customers and therefore cost Jeno his job.

     “You can’t keep this up, you’re failing all your midterms!” Jaemin yelled.

     “I passed P.E.” Jeno tried with a smile. Jaemin did not smile back.

     “Did you study at all for tomorrow’s exam this weekend?”

     “I did.” Jeno said. Clearly a lie.

     “Say one thing you know from the material.” Jaemin challenged.

     “The mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell?”

     “Damn it, Jeno, that’s last year’s Bio. material,” Jaemin yelled. “And we have a Geography exam tomorrow!”

     “Oh.” Jeno said. He looked like he was trying very hard to appear calm. It made Mark feel guilty about his outburst earlier. Jaemin said, “Give me your phone.”

     When Jeno pulled his phone out of his pocket, Jaemin connected his earphones to it and placed them into Jeno’s ears before handing it back to him. “When Renjun gets here I’ll give you a call. Just listen to us study while you work, okay?” Jeno didn’t say anything, he suddenly seemed very invested in the ground. “Okay?” Jaemin repeated.

     “Okay.” Jeno finally breathed, his face suddenly brightening with a huge smile.

     Jaemin said hello to Mark when he passed him, but sat at a separate table. He probably assumed Mark was busy studying because that was exactly what he pretended to be doing when Jeno and Jaemin’s exchange ended. Mark felt worn thin. Like he was a rubber band that’s been pulled taut and was about to snap.

     He regretted texting Donghyuck.

<<<<<<<<<<<<< >>>>>>>>>>>>>>

     Haechan was trying to stay positive, even though having Yuta and Ten screaming and at each other’s throats over a sandwich wasn’t helping. But he was glad for it. Because when Yuta asked him for the full story of what happened at the movies last week, he was spared from having to answer. As soon as they turned their full attention back on each other, he slipped out of the dorm as quietly as he could. He was meeting Mark today. He wanted to make things right. He wanted to clear things up. He wanted to ask Mark to be his boyfriend. He _was_ going to ask Mark to be his boyfriend. Today.

     Haechan saw Jeno behind the snack bar that night. He saw him talking to the other staff, not because he was ordering something, but because Jeno was staff. Haechan saw him take off his nametag and place it in his pocket as he finished his shift. When he confronted him, Jeno admitted it.

     “How many jobs do you have?” Haechan remembered asking. “A few.” Was the answer he got. Jeno explained to him that his parents refused to pay for his dance classes. He threatened to drop out of school, but they told him to go ahead and do it. But he didn’t really want to drop out of school, even though he was probably going to flunk out anyway. He made Haechan promise not to tell Jaemin and Renjun. Then Mark had joined them, balancing two sodas and popcorn in his arms. The look in his eyes pummeled Haechan’s heart. Then Jeno said he was seeing the movie too, surprising Haechan, and all Haechan could do was to play along. The next day, Mark wouldn’t meet his eyes at first. Haechan knew he’d screwed up. He should have just told Jeno to piss off. But he couldn’t. Even though Mark seemed to relax after a while and joined in with the rest of the guys when they laughed. He even laughed at Haechan’s jokes. But Haechan knew that something changed. The softness in Mark’s eyes had hardened and it was his fault. So today, he would make things right.

     He was walking to the café. His strides full of purpose. He realized that all he had really needed all along was confidence and faith in himself and in Mark. He suddenly felt the need to share some of his newfound wisdom, so he called Jisung.

     “What.” Jisung said in lieu of greeting him on the phone.

     “Hello, Jisung. How are you?”

     “I’m busy.” Haechan could hear clicking noises in the background, like Jisung was typing quickly.

     “I won’t take up too much of your time. I just wanted to tell you that if you ever decided to get closer to Chenle, let him hold himself back a year instead of you attempting to skip a grade; the success rate of the latter is awful. It would be much simpler for Chenle to fail some of his classes.”

     “Why would either one of us do that? We’re already close.” Jisung asked.

     “You’ll understand what I mean one day…” Haechan felt good as he said that.

     “I know what you mean, but it doesn’t apply. Chenle has a girlfriend, her name is Alice.”

     “He’ll see the light one day, trust me.”

     “What’s going on?” Jisung said, still in monotone. “Does this have something to do with Mark?” Jisung said.

     “No…” Haechan lied.

     “You’re talking nonsense, which means you’re nervous, which means it has to do with Mark. What’s going on?”

     “Okay fine!” Haechan said. “I’m terrified, I’m about to confess.”

     “I’m going now.” With that, Jisung hung up on him. A second later he received a text from him.

Good luck!

[received 2:20 PM]

     Mark was sleeping when Haechan walked into the café. His cheek squished where he rested it on one of his arms. In another corner of the café, Jaemin and Renjun were studying. Jeno was restocking napkins while listening to music. He also noticed Yoonoh bobbing his head at one of the tables and he ~~wished~~ pretended he didn’t. He decided to get Mark coffee before waking him. He set both their drinks on the table before crouching near Mark and gently touching his shoulder. His eyes fluttered open but he remained in place for a moment, just staring at Haechan. Haechan’s chest ached at the signs of exhaustion that covered Mark’s face. Mark smiled slowly and Haechan felt the bravery he’d gathered shatter.

     “Hey.” Mark said, his voice was raspy from sleep and he sat up, massaging his neck. Haechan wasn’t sure he could trust his voice just yet so he settled for smiling and taking a seat across from Mark.

     “Thank you.” Mark said, lifting his iced Americano to his lips.

     “Sure,” Haechan said. “Mark, in the future please try to avoid sleeping in public. Especially where criminal might be lurking around.” He tilted his head towards where Yoonoh was playing an invisible guitar. Mark looked at Yoonoh and laughed quietly before asking, “That’s the survey guy?”

     “That’s the one.”

     “Well, I’m lucky you’re here then.” Mark said, then his face twisted as if just realizing what he said. Then he added, “And Jeno and Renjun and... Jaemin.” He hid behind his coffee mug. It appeared Mark was too exhausted to remember to be guarded with his expressions much less his words.

     “Right,” Haechan said lightly. “Renjun could keep him in a chokehold while Jaemin and Jeno danced around him until he got dizzy and you’d be able to sleep peacefully.”

     “What about you?” Mark asked, lowering the coffee mug to reveal a smile.

     “Me?” Haechan swallowed nervously. “Well, I’d be here, waking you up so that you would study.”

     Mark looked like he expected that answer. “Let’s get started then.”

     The more they studied, the more Haechan was convinced that Mark did not need his tutoring. He tried to force himself to stop smiling, but he couldn’t. “What?” Mark asked, smiling at Haechan’s expression.

     “Nothing.” Haechan said, a short giggle escaping his lips.

     “No, tell me, what is it?” Mark insisted. Haechan just met his gaze evenly. His lips refused to listen to him and kept smiling on their own.

     “You’re really not going to tell me?”

     “No, I will.”

     “When?”

     “Soon.”

     “Fine.” Mark said, and solved another equation perfectly without any help.

     “I’ll be right back.” Haechan said when he noticed Jaemin waving him over. Renjun looked bored, his cheek pushed upwards by a first. Jaemin’s gaze was unimpressed as he regarded Haechan, “Sit.” He said. Haechan did, “What’s up?” He asked.

     “What’s up is that you need to stop flirting and confess already--” Jaemin stopped talking to Haechan suddenly and tilted his head, one of his hands pushed one of his earphones deeper into his ear to listen better. “No, Jeno, I wasn’t talking to you.” He paused briefly listening to the response. Haechan looked around until he found a very confused looking Jeno seated at an empty table, a rag thrown over his shoulder. Jaemin continued speaking, “How should I know why you’re sitting, I wasn’t talking to you! Look we’ll call you again when we go back to studying, we’re taking a break now.” And he hung up.

     “Jaemin, I’m busy tutoring Mark.”

     “No, you’re busy flirting with Mark.” Renjun said.

     “We weren’t flirting!”

     “What are you talking about half of your conversations consist of flirting, you two were giggling just now.” Renjun burst out angrily.

     “Mark giggles at anything, I’ll prove it, look.” Haechan looked over at Mark and yelled, “Yooooo Mark!”

     “Yoohooho!” Mark yelled back in a giggle.

     “See?” Haechan said.

     “Just do it.” Jaemin said, dialing a number on his phone, probably Jeno’s.

     “I will,” Haechan promised. “I’ll see you guys later.” And he went back to Mark, who was putting his books away. “I need to tell you something.” Haechan said.

     “Okay.” Mark stared, eyes wide.

     Haechan looked around to find Jaemin, Renjun, and Jeno staring at them. “I wish we were alone…” He said.

     Mark said. “We can go to my place if you want.”

     “What about your grandparents?”

     “My grandparents are out of town.”

     So they went to Mark’s house. Haechan was hungry so he headed straight for the kitchen as soon as Mark let him in, “Have you eaten anything today?” He asked Mark who shook his head no.

     “Well, let’s see… What do we have here?” He bent down to check the fridge’s contents then the freezer. He then opened every shelf in the kitchen. He found nothing more than a few eggs, some questionable canned meet, one chicken breast, and instant rice. “When did your grandparents leave?”

     “About ten days ago I guess.” Mark answered, not meeting his eyes.

     “Sit down, I’ll make us something.” He said.

     “You don’t have to.” Mark said. “I mean, you shouldn’t. You’re my guest, I should be making you something.”

     “As fun as dying sounds, I’d rather not get poisoned by the—” Haechan’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets in panic. He’d almost called Mark the Love of His Life right in front of him. Jisung and Chenle were right, he did say it too freely.

     “By the…?” Mark asked him to finish his sentence.

     “By you,” Haechan said. “Or anyone. Nobody wants to get poisoned, Mark, why is that such a novelty to you?”

     “Okay, calm down. I won’t poison you.” Mark said as he straddled a chair and watched Haechan work, his arms circling the back of the chair, cheek resting against it sleepily. “Tell me if I can help with something.”

     “I will.” Haechan lied.

     He started defrosting the chicken breast and prepared a marinade while it melted. He cooked the rice and put it aside for now.

     “The chicken is going to take a while.” He told Mark.

     “Do you want to watch something while we wait?” Mark asked, now looking up at Haechan who walked closer to him.

     “No, I’m good.” Haechan said. He wasn’t about to waste the time he had with Mark. They needed to talk.

     “Okay.” Mark whispered, his eyes fluttered closed, cheek squished even more against his fingers, which rested on the back of the chair. Haechan walked around the house without going upstairs. His limbs felt heavy as he pictured Mark coming back home to this every day after school. He wished he’d known. Why didn’t Mark tell him? He didn’t want to leave Mark sleeping in the awkward position for long so he went back to wake him, but Mark jerked awake on his own the moment Haechan got close, “What?” He asked Haechan, his voice too loud in the empty house.

     “I didn’t say anything, you fell asleep for a second.”

     “Oh. Sorry.” He smiled sheepishly.

     “You look like crap, Mark.” He said without malice. Mark’s cheeks turned pink as he said, “I’m alright.”

     “You look like you haven’t eaten or slept in ages.”

     “Donghyuck, I’m fine,” He blinked rapidly as he stood, shaking himself awake like he was a puppy. “The food smells great, he moved towards the oven, sniffing. Haechan grabbed his forearm before he could get away.

     “Your grandparents have been away for more than a week. Who’s been taking care of you?”

     Mark’s body stiffened, “I can take care of myself.” He wouldn’t look him in the eye.

     Haechan wanted to disagree, but Mark looked about ready to break so he didn’t. Instead he said, “I know…”

     Mark escaped from his loose hold and ducked near the oven, drooling over the piece of chicken cooking inside. Haechan spoke again, quietly this time but Mark heard him, “Weren’t you lonely?”

     Mark let out a laugh. It sounded bitter to Haechan’s ears, “I’ve had exams keeping me company.”

     “That’s officially the most pathetic thing I’ve ever heard.” Haechan deadpanned.

     “Thanks.” Mark’s voice sounded strange, his face hidden from view.

     “Mark?”

     “Donghyuck?” He turned to face him. His eyes were dry, but he looked more tired now that he had a few minutes earlier, though his lips attempted to stretch into a small smile. Haechan’s heart squeezed painfully in his chest. “I just wish you’d told me that you were alone.”

     “Now you know.”

     “Sit down, it should be ready now.”

     The chicken was ready. Haechan fried some eggs and mixed them with the rice as he reheated it. Then he took the chicken out and sliced it thinly to add to the rice. He was plating the food, trying to give Mark the bigger portion without making it too obvious, especially since he was very vocal about how hungry he was to Mark earlier. Mark got them two sodas from the fridge and set them on the table. They sat across from each other. They stuck to light subjects while eating like Haechan’s new turntable, which Doyoung had gifted him. Mark said he wanted to check it out and Haechan told him he could come over to try it any time. They spent more time talking about music. Mark had taken up playing the guitar again in the time he spent avoiding studying. Haechan thought it was best that he avoided mentioning writing to Mark again because it felt like a borderline heavy topic.

     When they were done, Mark started clearing the plates and Haechan stopped him. But Mark wouldn’t let go of the plates. He closed his eyes, “Let me do something.”

     “It’s not a big deal.” Haechan retorted.

     “Except it is to me, okay?” Mark snapped and his breathing turned ragged. He put the plates in the sink, his back to Haechan. “I’m sorry,” He said. “I’m just tired.”

     “I know.” Haechan said softly. He wondered if it was a good time for him to be doing this, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever think it was a good time to tell Mark he loved him. His heart was having a tantrum, flailing, kicking, shoving at his ribs. He stood close enough to Mark to feel the heat radiating from his body. Close enough to see the soft hairs at his nape. Close enough to see the tips of his ears tinted red. Close enough to smell the scent of coffee that clung to his skin. He knew Mark realized he was there because he stiffened and whereas he was slouching a moment before, he now stood up straight. His knuckles were white where he clutched the edge of the sink. Haechan’s arms carefully circled the older boy’s waist and he rested his chin against his shoulder. His chest was flush against his back and his cheek touched Mark’s neck. “I know.” Haechan said again. A sound was wrenched from Mark’s chest. Haechan felt it more than heard it. It tore through his soul to know that Mark was silently carrying so much pain within him. Mark finally leaned into Haechan, his head falling back to rest on his shoulder.

     “You don’t,” He said, twisting in Haechan’s hold so that he faced him. A finger traced Haechan’s cheek, “You don’t.” Mark’s eyes bore into his, wells full of secrets.

     “Mark,” He tried, but he stuttered, so he said it again, “Mark I…I…” The words wouldn’t come. _Fuck it._ He leaned in, closing the distance between their lips. His lips were flattened by Mark’s palm coming up quickly between their faces. Their wide eyes met. Haechan thought his surprise was understandable, but what did Mark have to be shocked about when it was his palm pushing Haechan’s face away. “Ow.” Haechan complained, though it was only his feelings that were hurt.

     Mark sounded breathless when he said, “Only do it if you mean it, if you won’t take it back.”

     “I never meant to take anything back.” Haechan said, though regret loomed to the surface of his mind.

     “You may not have meant to, but to me you did.”

     “What are you talking about?” It didn’t sound like Mark was talking about the other day at the movie theatre.

     “At lunch. Jeno.” Mark said by way of answering and Haechan knew exactly what he was referring to. Despite what he’d thought, Mark had seen him kiss Jeno that day in his first year of high school after all.

     “I mean this, Mark, and I don’t want to take it back.” He said, pulling Mark’s hands down and entwining their fingers. They kissed slowly, he tried to show Mark how much he cared since he didn’t have the guts to tell him. He tried to take all the darkness that had gathered inside his friend and replace it with light. He wanted Mark to know that he was never and will never be alone.

     They broke apart, breathing heavily. Mark spoke first, “I swear to God if I see you making out with Jeno tomorrow I will lose it—” Haechan shut him up by kissing him again. “I’m serious, Donghyuck.” Mark said the second time they surfaced for air.

     “Mark, I don’t want to think about him while I’m kissing you.”

     “Good.” Mark said, smiling playfully.

     “And why is that good?” Haechan asked, mirroring an earlier conversation they’d had.

     “It’s just good.” Mark finished and pulled Haechan close again. 

<<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>>

              Haechan was sitting on the carpeted floor of Mark’s bedroom. His back rested against the side of Mark’s mattress. He was talking to Mark, who was very tired yet very hyper. In his lap rested said Mark’s head. The pros of Mark being in his lap were, well, that Mark was in his lap. The cons were that every time Mark had a giggle fit, Haechan’s arms and thighs would get brutalized. He shifted to pull his phone out of his pocket. It was time for him to go back to the dorm and besides; Mark needed to get some sleep.

       “I should get going, now. And you need to rest.” He said and Mark sat up. Haechan suddenly felt cold and regretted saying anything.

       “Can’t you stay?” Mark asked. Haechan coughed to cover his embarrassment, “Stay?” He asked just to make sure he hadn’t imagined it. Mark nodded, “You never go to class anyway. So just stay.”

       “You have a midterm tomorrow.” Haechan reminded him.

       “And?” Haechan couldn’t argue against that line of logic.

       “I’ll just text the guys that I’m staying here tonight.” He said. Mark beamed and all but ran to open his closet, “I’ll find you something to wear.” Haechan opened the most recent chat; it was Yuta. He wrote:

 

I’m staying over at Mark’s. Don’t tell my mom or Jisung, tell the guys the same. I promise that neither Mark nor I will end up pregnant. See you tomorrow morning.

Love you xoxoxo

[sent 11:15 PM]

<<<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>>>

       Mark grabbed a pair of pajama shorts and a black cotton shirt for Donghyuck to wear. “Here.” He bunched them up and threw them at an unsuspecting Donghyuck.

       “Thanks.” Donghyuck said, the shorts covering his face.

       “I’ll wash up while you change.” Mark went into the bathroom, grabbing a purple long sleeved cotton shirt and a pair of pajama pants. He changed into them then quickly washed his face and brushed his teeth. He walked back into his bedroom to find Donghyuck in his pajamas. The sight brought a smile to his face. Donghyuck blushed, “Could you knock?”

       “Um,” Mark looked back at the bathroom door. “It’s weird knocking before leaving my own bathroom.”

       “Why is that weird? I could have been naked.”

       “Uh…” Mark was now looking everywhere but at Donghyuck.

       “Whatever.” Donghyuck said, walking past Mark and into the bathroom. Mark got under the covers and waited.

       “I used your toothbrush.” Donghyuck announced as soon as he left the bathroom. Then he paused, suddenly unsure as he eyed the bed. Mark had made sure the invitation was obvious as he stuck to one side of the bed and threw the comforter back from the side he expected Donghyuck to take. “I’ll get the lights.” Donghyuck said. The room was fully dark and Mark resented it. He felt the bed shift under Donghyuck’s weight a moment later.

       “Good night.” Donghyuck said in English, making Mark’s heart twist in the most pleasant way. Mark shifted closer, entangling his legs with Donghyuck’s. “Good night.” He said back, breathing in his scent as he placed a kiss against his ear, Donghyuck’s earring digging into his chin, then found his cheek and kissed it. He felt Donghyuck’s smile against his neck as they nestled closer. He was thinking of how Donghyuck’s eyelashes tickled and how right his body felt against his own when he drifted off to sleep. He dreamt of warm sunrays streaking through clouds and winding their way between the shadows casted by swaying apple branches.

       He woke up feeling refreshed for the first time in a long time. Donghyuck was still asleep, his arm was thrown over Mark’s chest. The sun draped itself onto the planes of his gilded face. Mark moved slowly, careful not to wake him. When he was ready for school he couldn’t resist running his hand through the soft strands of the other boy’s hair. He wrote Donghyuck a note telling him that he’d come by the dorms to check out the turntable after school. He wanted to write something else, but the time for that would come later. Before he left, he turned back one more time leaning down to look at Donghyuck’s sleeping form. He waited a beat, just to make sure he was really asleep, and then he whispered, “I missed you.” When the other boy didn’t move, he said three other words, his heart flapped in his chest and he felt relief rise within him.

       At school, when his friends asked him why he was smiling while everyone else was worried about failing chemistry, he told them he had a very good tutor.

       What Mark wanted to say was that his soul felt replenished, that he felt comforted, that he was loved, that he was saved.


	10. Just Don’t Have Sex While I’m in the Room

      Yuta was crouched by the charger. His phone’s screen remained black although he connected it minutes ago. By the time it lit up, he had pulled at his hair so many times that it was sticking out in random places. He had several missed calls; all from Ten and Doyoung and none from Haechan. He then checked his messages; 30 unread. He scrolled through them quickly. not reading any of them, and simply looking for Haechan’s name. Most were from Ten and Doyoung. A few, the most recent, were from Taeyong. He scrolled to the oldest unread message of the day and there it was, the name he was looking for: _Dongsookie_ ; a text from Haechan.

I’m staying over at Mark’s. Don’t tell my mom or Jisung,

tell the guys the same. I promise that neither Mark nor

me will end up pregnant. See you tomorrow morning.

Love you xoxoxo

[received 11:15 PM]

      He exhaled, his hands shaking as he called Ten who picked up at the first ring, “He’s at Mark’s, he’s okay.”

      There was a brief pause before Ten hung up. Yuta didn’t have time to waste worrying about his feelings as he called Doyoung, but the line was busy and he assumed he was talking to Ten. But he still texted Doyoung on the off chance that that wasn’t the case. His heart was finally calming. He hugged his knees to his chest and breathed steadily. Ten and Doyoung were probably on their way back to the dorm. He felt bad for Haechan, who would wake up to find his phone flooded with calls and texts. He made a mental note to purchase a portable charger, or a new phone with a better battery life. Or he could just tell Haechan to text the group chat instead of using him like a carrier pigeon. He texted Haechan, even though he knew the kid was asleep:

My phone was dead when you texted me.

Sorry about the mess it caused.

I hope you had fun with Mark.

[sent 1:11 AM]

      Then he checked the three texts from Taeyong. The first read:

That roommate of yours is a piece of work…

I mean… I’d let you take as many bites as you’d like ;)

[received 12:59 AM]

      For a moment, he was confused, but then he realized that it was a response to Yuta’s texts from the afternoon when he complained to Taeyong about Ten being angry at him for taking a bite out of his sandwich. He smiled a little at the cheesiness. The one after was sent a minute later, which would have been around the time Yuta came into the dorm:

Of my food that is… ;)

[received 1:00 AM]

      Then the third:

;))))))))

[received 1:00 AM]

      He would text back later, hopefully when he wasn’t feeling like a walking trash bag. He considered taking a shower to avoid his roommate for a bit longer… He could lock the door and sleep there for the night. No, Yuta wasn’t a coward. He would face Ten and wait until he got over the ordeal. He checked some of the messages he got. The ones from Doyoung were brief and to the point. Asking about Haechan’s whereabouts then about Yuta’s. Ten on the other hand was more creative. His texts involved a variation of threats. He spared no detail in his meticulously graphic descriptions of all the methods he would employ to kill Yuta. The curse words he used were ones that Yuta had never even heard of before. This was going to be a long night.

      The door opened with a bang, causing Yuta to jump up, standing to attention. Ten walked in first and Yuta braced himself. It felt like a fine layer of ice glazed over his bones when his roommate did not even spare a glance in his direction and just continued past him, disappearing into their room. Doyoung was in front of him, staring, his mouth a harsh line.

      “I’m sorry.” Yuta said, blood rushing to his head, his ears pounding. Doyoung shook his head, letting out a small sound of disbelief and went into the other room. Doyoung had never been seriously angry with him before. Seeing the look of his face hurt. Yuta stood there for a long time. He heard footsteps coming from one of the rooms. He didn’t care which one of them it was who was about to come into the living room. He lunged for his phone tearing it from the charger and left the dorm.

      He knocked on the door again. His body was full of nervous jitters. He knew more than one person was awake inside. He could hear them laughing. He knocked harder, and the laughter ceased. Yoonoh opened the door, shock painted his face, but he let Yuta in. He scanned the living room; no Taeyong. “Hello.” Yuta said.

      Sicheng smiled at Yuta. He was sitting on the couch, both feet propped up on the table. He held a yellow Nintendo Switch controller in one of his hands. A blue one was on the table by his feet. “Taeyong’s in the shower.” Yoonoh said as he sat next to Sicheng, taking the blue controller and unpausing the game. Yuta stayed there by the door, it was Taeyong who usually let him in. They played for a few seconds without saying anything to him. Then Sicheng asked, “Aren’t you going to sit?”

      “Yeah, it’s creepy the way you’re just standing there.” Yoonoh added unnecessarily.

      Yuta awkwardly walked to the couch. The only space that looked big enough for him to occupy happened to be between them, so that was where he sat. He could have sworn he felt Sicheng roll his eyes, even though he didn’t see it. He crossed his arms over his chest, willing his figure to shrink.

      They didn’t ask him if he wanted to play, which he didn’t. When five minutes passed, he thought he would faint from the awkwardness so he asked, “Is Taeil in his room?”

      “Where else would he be?” Yoonoh said, expectedly rude. So Yuta got up, almost tripping on Sicheng’s legs, and walked to the door, listening for any signs of life before knocking. He couldn’t hear anything on the other side and worried that Taeil was asleep in there. But Yoonoh and Sicheng woudn’t have been laughing that loudly if he was, would they? Yoonoh probably would… But he held Sicheng at a higher standard. He knocked softly. The door swung open a moment later to reveal a disheveled looking Taeil. The room was completely lit and the bed covers were made, so at least Yuta hadn’t woken him. Taeil’s laptop was sitting on the desk, the screen halfway lowered. Headphones and a can of coke sat beside it. Taeil smiled, “Hey,” He said. Then he eyed Yoonoh and Sicheng behind Yuta. “Come on.” He said, pulling Yuta into the room and closing the door behind them.

      “Where’s Taeyong?” He asked Yuta, like he wasn’t the one who lived with him. He took a seat at the desk and gestured for Yuta to sit on either one of the beds.

      “In the shower.” Yuta answered, sitting on the bed to his right.

      “You can wait here while he finishes.” Taeil said, like he realized Yuta’s state of distress.

      “Thanks,” Yuta said. “Sorry about just barging in like this.”

      Taeil shrugged, “You knocked.” And Yuta laughed, feeling more at ease. “Everything okay?” He asked.

      “I had a fight with my roommates.” Taeil nodded like he could relate, although Yuta had never even seen him interact with his roommates. “Do you need to stay here tonight?” Taeil asked.

      “Only if it’s okay with everyone.”

      “Why wouldn’t it be?” Taeil said. Yuta said nothing in return. He didn’t want to get into his interesting relationship with Yoonoh.

      “So,” Yuta said. “What are you up to?” Taeil raised his laptop screen. The face of a smiling blue cat with white wings appeared. Yuta laughed again. Taeil disconnected his headphones so that they could watch the episode together. Yuta recently started watching anime dubbed in Korean as practice, but Taeil was watching it subbed and Yuta commented on that. Taeil looked extremely offended at the thought of watching dubbed anime so Yuta dropped the subject. Halfway through the episode, Yuta heard Taeyong’s voice outside the room. Taeil automatically paused the episode, “I’ll see you later.” He told Yuta.

      “You really can’t stand your roommates, can you?” Yuta asked, not in a hurry to stand up and ask Taeyong if he could stay here for the night.

      “They’re alright.” Taeil said, his eyes confused like he didn’t know why Yuta would assume such a thing.

      “I never see you spending time with them.” Yuta clarified.

      “I like them, it’s just that they’re… charged with confusing energy?” Taeil started and stopped, like he wasn’t sure whether or not he should share more. But then he said, “It might sound dumb or not make much sense, but It’s just that, you see, it’s different than spending time with someone like you, someone who, despite not sharing too much about himself, is still open in a way… simple?—”

      Yuta cut him off, “Stupid?” He supplied.

      “No,” Taeil said, not finding humor in Yuta’s quip. “Just more upfront about your thoughts and feelings, whether or not you mean to be.” Taeyong’s questioning voice was in the living room now, right outside the door. “Does that make sense?” Taeil asked. Yuta thought of Taeyong’s mysterious smirks and the random shifts in his mood. He thought of Sicheng’s long sullen silences and Yoonoh’s shit-eating grins.

      Taeil didn’t wait for an answer, “He’s looking for you.” He said. Yuta went to Taeyong, who was about to knock on Taeil’s bedroom. He wore a light black sleeveless cotton shirt and shorts, a towel sat on his head. He smelled like strawberries.

“Mario Kart tournament?” Yoonoh asked too loudly behind Taeyong. _Oh, so Yuta was allowed to play with them now that Taeyong was here. Great._ Taeyong looked at Yuta with wide expectant eyes and Yuta had to say yes.

      “Just give us a few minutes.” Taeyong said and he pulled Yuta into his room. “You’re back,” He said, holding Yuta’s hand. Yuta blushed even though not an hour before he had Taeyong’s tongue in his mouth. _Typical._ “I’m not complaining,” Taeyong said earnestly, squeezing Yuta’s hand. “But you’re back.” He said again.

      Yuta told him what happened, finishing the story with, “So I was wondering if I could stay here tonight?” Taeyong was already nodding so Yuta said, “That is if it’s okay with the rest of the guys too?”

      “They’ll be fine with it, come on let’s go;” Taeyong said, like he was missing an important event. “They’ll probably start the tournament without us if we take too long.” Yuta let himself get pulled back to the living room. Yoonoh and Sicheng made space for Yuta and Taeyong, but the couch didn’t look big enough to Yuta tonight. Taeyong took his spot next to Yoonoh and Yuta opted to sit on the floor by Taeyong’s feet. “Why?” Taeyong asked softly when Yuta settled on the ground. Yuta reassured him that he was good where he was, but he looped his arm around Taeyong’s ankle for good measure and Taeyong relaxed. Taeyong was about to tell them about Yuta needing to stay the night when Taeil walked out of the bedroom and made a beeline for the fridge. He pulled out a can of Coke then sat down next to Yuta, shocking everyone.

      “So,” He said. “What are we playing?”

      The shocked silence continued. Yuta cleared his throat and said, “Mario Kart.”

      “Cool.” Was Taeil’s reply. He leaned close to Yuta’s ear and whispered, “You were right, I should make more of an effort.” Yuta hadn’t meant for this to happen when he commented on Taeil’s seclusion, but he figured having another person on his side couldn’t hurt. Especially since he still felt like a walking trash bag.

      They started the tournament. First, they played rock paper scissors to determine who would play against whom. Taeil insisted that he should play against the winner since he was apparently better than all of them, none of the three liked hearing that while Yuta couldn’t care less. First it was Sicheng against Taeyong. Taeyong won, but just barely. Next it was Yoonoh against Yuta. Normally, Yuta would have tried harder just because it was Yoonoh who was playing against him, but he didn’t even want to play at all after everything that happened. He lost. When it was Taeyong versus Yoonoh, Taeyong decided to declare that Yuta was spending the night there in the middle of the game. Yoonoh dropped his controller, not bothering to pause the game.

      “No.” Yoonoh said.

      “I wasn’t asking.” Taeyong said. “Why not?” Taeil asked at the same time. Sicheng just watched.

      “There’s no room for him.” Yoonoh said heatedly, like Yuta’s comfort was his number one priority.

      “I don’t mind sleeping on the couch.” Yuta said, crossing his arms over his chest. He doubted anyone heard him because Taeyong was yelling at Yoonoh, “I’ll _make_ room.”

      “We all live here,” Yoonoh yelled back. “We should get a say in this. Right?” He looked at Sicheng for support.

      Sicheng said, “I don’t mind him staying. Just don’t have sex while I’m in the room.” Yuta’s face heated at that.

      “I’m alright with him staying too,” Taeil said. “That’s three out of four.”

      “I really don’t want to cause a problem, I’ll just go back to my dorm.” Yuta said. Taeyong spoke over him, “No, you’re not. You’re staying here.” His eyes never left Yoonoh’s face.

      “Fine.” Yoonoh said, his dimples pronounced as he pursed his lips, walking towards Yuta and holding out his hand. “Give me your keys.” He demanded.

      “What?” Yuta said incredulously. “I’m not going to do that.”

      “Why not? You’re staying here, why can’t I stay there?”

      “Your criminal record, for starters,” Yuta said, worried about Haechan coming home to find the Idiot at their dorm. “We have a minor residing at our dorm.”

      “My criminal—” He started, outraged, Then he took a breath, moving out of Yuta’s space. “I’ll just talk to Ten. He’ll let me in.” Yoonoh said, dialing Ten’s phone. Yuta looked around the room. Taeil gave him a _told you they were nuts_ look. Sicheng looked beyond pissed. Taeyong looked bored, but Yuta could see the fire lurking behind his eyes. “Hey Ten, I’m coming over.” Yoonoh said. Yuta couldn’t hear Ten’s side of the conversation, but Yoonoh’s eyes caught Yuta’s as he said, “Yes, he is here.” Then Ten said something and Yoonoh said, “Well, it’s too late for that. I’ll be there in a minute.” And he put his phone back into his pocket. He was already in his pajamas so he left without another word, closing the door with more force that necessary behind him. Sicheng rolled his eyes and went into his and Taeyong’s room. Taeyong went after Yoonoh. In the back of his mind, Yuta vaguely wondered if his newfound status as a walking trash bag was a permanent one.

      “Come on,” Taeil said, breaking the silence. “We should sleep. I’ll lend you something to wear.”

      “That’s a good idea.” Yuta said. Taeil went into the room without waiting for Yuta to follow. Yuta waited in the living room until Taeyong walked in, looking angry for a split-second. Then he saw Yuta and forced a neutral expression. Yuta walked up to Taeyong feeling like an even bigger trash bag than before. Taeyong took hold of both his hands, pulling Yuta towards him and closing the distance between them before letting go of his hands and wrapping his arms around Yuta’s waist, “Sorry about Yoonoh being a dick.” He whispered into Yuta’s hair.

      “Sorry I was the reason you fought with him.”

      “You didn’t cause this, he was being unreasonable.” This didn’t make Yuta feel any better about what happened. He just held on to Taeyong, taking comfort in how solid he felt against him. Taeyong tried to pull away, but Yuta held him tighter; he wasn’t done yet.

“You know,” Taeyong started, purposely breathing into Yuta’s ear. “You could sleep in my bed tonight…” The way Taeyong said it didn’t make Yuta stop feeling like a trash bag, but it did make him feel like a sexy trash bag.

      “Mmm, I’m sure Sicheng would love that.” Yuta answered.

      “Get your mind out of the gutter. My invitation was innocent.” Taeyong successfully pulled away from Yuta, acting affronted.

      “Like your texts?” Yuta asked.

      “Exactly.” Taeyong smiled and kissed the frown off of Yuta’s face. Yuta’s fingers lightly traced Taeyong’s sides, he supposed it tickled because Taeyong squirmed away. “I’m going to bed.” Yuta said, turning away from Taeyong and walking towards Taeil’s room. Taeyong followed him, so Yuta turned back to look at him, “What are you doing?” He asked.

      “I’m following you.” He said, his tone playful.

      “I can see that,” Yuta replied. “Why?”

      “The bed is big enough for the two of us.” Taeyong said with a suggestive smirk. Yuta imagined it, him and Taeyong in Yoonoh’s bed with Taeil in the room.

      “No.” He said and as expected, Taeyong pouted, “I was kidding anyway.” Taeyong said.

      “Sure.” Yuta replied, kissing him one last time before slipping into the room and closing the door behind him.

      Taeil had turned off half the lights in the room. He was lying awake on his bed, still watching Fairy Tail. He paused it to tell Yuta that he left him pajamas on Yoonoh’s bed. Yuta usually slept in his boxers, if in anything at all. But he thought it might be rude to turn down Taeil’s hospitality. He put on the shorts but ignored the shirt. It was already warm in the room, and he knew he would sweat through the night under the covers. After he finished washing up, he slipped into the bed and discreetly kicked off the shorts. Taeil was too immersed in his laptop screen to notice. Yuta hadn’t realized how exhausted he was, but as soon as he closed his eyes, he slipped into a dreamless sleep.

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> 

      When Haechan woke up, it took him a few moments to figure out where he was. When he did, he smiled and burrowed his face deeper into the pillows, which smelled like Mark. He stretched out his limbs, turning to lie on his back, remembering the night before, filled with Mark’s clinginess and his sleepy kisses. The feeling of Mark’s smile against his skin so fresh in his memory he could still sense it.

      He knew he’d overslept, so he figured he should wait for Mark here so that they could go to the dorm together, and maybe do other stuff before that. He got up, looking for his phone to check the time, but he couldn’t find it. He remembered the big grandfather clock he saw in the living room last night, so he ran down the stairs to check the time. It was past noon. He couldn’t wait until Mark got back from school. There was nothing to eat, so he decided to take a shower. He felt funny, like he was playing house. But it was a good feeling.

      When he was done showering, he chose the pair of sweatpants that looked the comfiest and paired them with a cotton t-shirt. He threw himself on Mark’s bed, trying to remember the last time he touched his phone last night. It was probably when he texted Yuta, which meant his phone was in the bedroom. After he texted Yuta, Mark had given him a pair of pajamas and gone into the bathroom. He remembered Mark barging in on him right after he pulled the shirt down to cover his waist, he had been so startled that he’d dropped the phone. It had to be in that corner of the room. He got up and looked for it in that same corner. _Nothing._ He crouched down, checking under the bed and… There is was.

      His heart all but stopped when he saw what looked like a million messages and missed calls on his phone. He walked the phone back to the bed and sat on the edge, preparing himself for a disaster. After about fifteen minutes of scrolling he figured out what had happened. Yuta’s phone had been dead when he texted him and he wasn’t with the guys and so apparently that caused them to go into panic mode.

      He replied to the last text Yuta sent him:

What? No ‘I love you too?’

I’m sad : (

[sent 1:45 PM]

      Then he went to the groupchat and wrote:

Guys I spent the night with the loml,

which means you’re not allowed to be in a fight or be

angry at me for being too lazy to text the group chat

but you must understand Mark was in my lap when I

made the decision to text Yuta so…

Anyway, I’ll see you later!

Love you xoxoxo

(except for Yuta because he ignored my love earlier)

[sent 1:45 PM]

      He hoped that would help lighten their mood a bit… He didn’t want to bring Mark back to his friends killing each other in the dorm… or worse… bring him back to his friends prepared to kill him.

      At least none of them had texted his mother. There was a single text from Mark from this morning, it said the same thing he wrote Haechan in the note he’d left him; that he’d come to the dorms after school, but he mentioned that he would drop by the house beforehand. He thought about texting Mark that he was going to wait for him here, but decided it would be better to surprise him. He texted back just to tell him that he couldn’t wait.

      He was lying on the couch in the living room. He’d turned the TV on just to mute it and ignore its existence as he scrolled through his twitter timeline. Ten and Yuta were subtweeting each other last night, Doyoung hadn’t tweeted since the previous morning. He closed his eyes and sighed in frustration. He hoped they would get over this soon.

      The front door opened. He pocketed his phone and went to greet Mark. The other boy was in the process of shrugging off his back bag. He didn’t hear Haechan approaching, and Haechan stood a good six feet away when he saw Mark’s face. After Mark let his bag fall to the ground, he stood still, just looking at a random spot on the floor, his shoulders drooped, his eyes looked dead. Haechan tried to speak, but a sinking feeling spread through his limbs. When Mark finally realized that he was there, his eyes widened, Haechan could see how bloodshot they were from where he was standing as Mark stared at Haechan like he was seeing a ghost. Haechan’s mouth opened and closed stupidly, his throat too dry to speak.

      “Why are you still here?” Mark asked and Haechan’s heart turned to stone in his chest. “No,” Mark said after seeing the hurt that must have showed on Haechan’s face. “No, Donghyuck, no. You misunderstood me. I’m asking you why you’re still here?”

      Haechan was confused, how could he have misunderstood that? Mark literally just repeated the same question “I was waiting for you.” He answered.

      “Yeah,” Mark said, still sounding cold. Haechan had a feeling they weren’t talking about the same thing, but for the life of him he couldn’t understand what was happening. “I figured you were.”

      “What’s wrong?” Haechan said, getting as close as he dared to Mark. Mark’s raised a hand to stop him. “What happened?” Haechan asked.

      “I can’t do this,” Mark said. “I’m sorry.”

      “You can’t do what? Talk to me.” Haechan couldn’t control the way his voice was shaking in his growing panic.

      “I’m not good for you, Donghyuck. I’ve always known it.” Mark said, “This has to end.” all the while Mark was looking right into his eyes. Haechan couldn’t believe what he was hearing, if this was Mark’s idea of a joke, then Haechan truly regretted all the effort he had put in defending Mark’s sense of humor to his friends in the past. But Haechan knew Mark wasn’t joking.

      “This isn’t funny.” He said through his teeth anyway. Mark remained stone-faced. Tears threatened to escape the corners of Haechan’s eyes. He couldn’t— _wouldn’t_ let this happen again. He closed the distance between him and Mark, taking Mark’s face between his palms and pressing their foreheads together, Mark closed his eyes but didn’t push him away. He was breathing hard while Haechan couldn’t breathe at all. “Mark?” He said, Mark’s eyes remained closed and he shook his head. “Mark, don’t do this.”

      Mark whispered, “I have to.” Now it was Haechan’s turn to shake his head, “You don’t.” He said. “Please don’t do this.” He begged. He kissed Mark’s mouth, nothing slow or gentle about the way he did it, just pure desperation translated into a kiss. Mark kissed him back, so he grabbed his waist and pulled Mark’s body against his own. He could feel how fast Mark’s heart was beating against his own raging chest. Mark’s eyes flashed open, meeting Haechan’s and he pushed Haechan away. He stumbled a few steps back. They both gasped for breath as they stared at each other.

      “Get out.” Mark breathed. Haechan couldn’t stop his lips from trembling; he didn’t care if he looked pathetic as he begged Mark to listen to him, to explain to him what had changed, what he did wrong. When Mark asked him to leave again, he became relentless in closing the distance Mark created between them. He kissed Mark’s cheeks, his lips, his nose, his forehead and every time Mark pulled away, he just followed him. Until Mark’s back was against the door, Mark caged between Haechan’s arms, unable to get away anymore. Mark just kept shaking his head while pulling Haechan closer, making Haechan’s head spin. “Stop,” Haechan said, kissing Mark over and over, “Stop pushing me away.” He kissed every last corner of Mark’s face then he moved to his neck, but before his lips touched the skin right above Mark’s collarbone, there were arms breaking the firm hold he had on the other’s hips, he was either more unprepared than he was the last time Mark had pushed him, or Mark just put more strength into it this time around, because one moment Haechan could feel the warmth of Mark’s skin and the next he was on the floor. He got up right away, ignoring the shocked expression on Mark’s face, ignoring the pain in his leg.

      The third time Haechan tried to get closer to Mark, Mark held his arms out, keeping Haechan off of him before he tried to embrace him. It hurt, but Haechan’s mind stopped functioning. It seemed the only thing he could think to do to fix this was to try to kiss Mark or hug him. But Mark wasn’t letting him get close enough to do it anymore.

      “Please leave.” Mark said brokenly. With that, he pushed past Haechan and went up the stairs.

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> 

      Yuta woke up when he felt something dripping on his forehead. It took him a few minutes to open his eyes.

      “Is he dead?” He heard someone say in a casual tone.

      “Looks like it, how are we going to break it to Taeyong?”

      “Ugh, that’s gonna be a crappy conversation.”

      “I’m alive, assholes.” Yuta said to Yoonoh and Sicheng, who hovered above him.

      “Damn it.” Said Yoonoh.

      “Which one of you drooled on me?” Yuta asked, wiping his forehead with his forearm.

      “That would be my hair.” Sicheng answered, his hair was dripping wet.

      “What do you want?” Yuta said, trying to go back to sleep.

      “Uh, my room back for one. Also, if you could give me my best friend back it would also be great, thanks.” Yoonoh said, smiling down at Yuta, candy sweet. Yuta climbed out of bed and went to the common room.

      “Oh my god, he’s naked.” Yoonoh exclaimed.

      He hoped they’d let him sleep on the couch, but they followed him. Sicheng had a phone in his hand, he handed it to Yuta, “Your phone was buzzing earlier.”

      Yuta took it, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. The latest notification was a text from Ten:

Come back to the dorm.

Please.

[received 3:00 PM]

      The text that came before it was in the groupchat, it was from Haechan:

Mark just broke up with me.

[received 2:50 PM]

      “Tell Taeyong that I’m fine, but that I had to leave because of an emergency.” He told Yoonoh and Sicheng before running back to his dorm.


	11. Oh No, Is He Okay?

      Haechan couldn’t remember anything that happened between the moment he left Mark’s house to the time he walked into the dorm. But he did remember everything that happened after he walked in. Yuta paused his pacing, his posture screaming his concern. Ten looked angry but equally sympathetic. Doyoung just looked sad. Haechan looked at the three of them, trying to straighten his back as he did. They all approached him as one, none of them said a word. But Yuta held his hand and Ten petted his hair while Doyoung pulled him to sit on the couch and put his arms around him.

      His lower lip was trembling and he knew the tears were coming. It was like they could sense it too, because they all held their breath. “It was so bad.” He sobbed. And his friends held him as his shoulders shook. After a few minutes, Yuta got up, “I’ll make him some tea.” Haechan couldn’t seem to stop crying.

      “Have you eaten anything?” Doyoung asked. Haechan shook his head mid-sob. “I’ll order you something and I’ll make some soup for now; it will make you feel better.” Haechan cried harder because he wasn’t used to being taken care of this way by anyone. Ten whispered, “I’m going to kill that kid.” And Haechan knew he was talking about Mark. He clung to Ten, calming down a little.

      “You want that, Haechan?” Ten asked him, his face serious. “I’d really do it.”

      Yuta returned with a floral smelling cup of tea for Haechan, who had stopped crying for the moment. “He really would,” Yuta said while Ten nodded. “And he even has an interesting list of ways that you could choose from.” Yuta unlocked his phone and opened his chat room with Ten. Haechan actually laughed at some of the options, which included yelling at a person to death, hanging someone from their ears, talking to them about the Mandela Effect, which was a clear jab at Yuta. There were other more graphic options, which made Haechan want to cry again because he didn’t want Mark to actually be hurt when Ten killed him. Yuta noticed and put the phone away quickly. He handed Haechan the cup of tea.

      Haechan felt a bit better after he ate. He felt okay enough to tell the guys what happened, focusing on what Mark said and skipping the rest. Everyone was lost in thought for a long time. Haechan used this moment and the warmth he gained from the solidarity they showed to draw enough strength to consider what went wrong between last night and this afternoon.

      Did Mark have a meal at the school cafeteria that tasted better than what Haechan cooked for him last night? If so, then it wasn’t fair; he could hardly blame Haechan with the ingredients that were available… Could it be that Haechan looked ugly in his sleep?

      “Impossible!” He only realized that he said it out loud when everyone in the room turned to look at him. They suddenly seemed uncomfortable; they probably thought he’d lost his mind. Yuta smiled kindly at him, “What’s impossible?” he asked.

      “Nothing,” He replied. “Guys, I’m cute right?” He asked even though he knew he was.

      “Oh he is so dead.” Ten promised.

      “You’re the cutest,” Doyoung reassured. “And yes, he is.” He said the last part to Ten.

      “Just don’t use options three, five, or eight to seventy, please.” Haechan said.

      “You’re also very nice and loveable.” Yuta added.

      “Yeah,” Ten agreed. “Yuta ran in here naked when he got your text. He could have gotten expelled for that.”

      “Oh,” Haechan winced. Was Yuta naked because he was in the middle of sexy times with Taeyong? “Sorry about that.” He said.

      “Don’t be. If I had gotten expelled you would have been worth it, that’s how important you are. Mark is an idiot.” Yuta told him with a smile, and then he tried to subtly send Ten a death glare. Mark’s name sent a fresh spike of pain into his heart.

Haechan got up, trying to smile at them, “Alright, I’m going to sleep.” He walked to his room. He could hear Yuta whisper to Doyoung, “Does he know it’s 5?” and he ignored it.

      He caught his reflection in the mirror. He looked like crap, but that wasn’t what caught his attention. It was the clothes he had on, they were Mark’s clothes and he’d forgotten that he had them on. He took them off quickly, like they scalded his skin. He was even wearing Mark’s underwear for God’s sake, and whereas he’d felt giddy about it before, now he couldn’t stand it. He bunched the fabrics together then he threw them in the trash. A bruise bloomed on his thigh. He pressed his finger into the flesh. The pain was nothing because he could still smell Mark on his skin, in his hair, under his nails. “Yuta,” He yelled while putting on a pair of his own pajamas. “Do you have any used gym clothes?” But he turned off the lights and slid under the covers without waiting for an answer. He lay awake. He wasn’t really thinking about it anymore he was just _feeling_ it. It was a dull sort of pain, closer to fatigue than the sharp hurt he was experiencing earlier.

      Yuta came into the room, leaving the lights off. “Hey,” he said. “I have my football tryouts tomorrow afternoon, it would be great if you tagged along. Only if you felt up for it, though.”

      “Wouldn’t you prefer it if Taeyong joined you?” He said. The bed dipped under Yuta’s weight as he joined Haechan, lying down next to him but over the covers.

      “No,” Yuta answered. “I’d rather have you with me.” Haechan knew he was being treated like he was a child. He realized that he didn’t mind it, not right now, not after everything that happened. In fact, he _needed_ it, or else he felt like he might break. The weight of what he’d done for Mark crashed down on him. He’d exposed a secret he’d so carefully kept secure for most of his life. The very most important thing to him had been keeping it secure for the longest time. He didn’t regret it, not really. He didn’t regret coming to college and meeting these new people who loved him and cared for him, he couldn’t. But the reality of what he’d done, the fact that he’d left his friends, his school, his home, he’d left Jisung alone… for what? He started crying again, Yuta couldn’t tell in the dark until a sob was wrenched from Haechan’s chest when he could no longer keep it in.

      “I thought you liked football.” Yuta said and Haechan hated him for making him laugh in the middle of his breakdown.

      “I’ll come with you tomorrow.” Haechan promised. Yuta wiped his cheeks down with his thumbs and ruffled his hair before getting off the bed.

      “If you need anything, let us know.” Yuta told him before leaving the room. Haechan didn’t miss how Yuta kept the door ajar. He wiped the droplets of tears that still hung in his lashes and closed his eyes, aching for the image of Mark’s face to disappear from behind his closed lids.

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> 

      Yuta’s alarm went off at 7:45 in the morning. He turned it off before it woke Ten. He could smell something delicious wafting into the room. Could it be Haechan cooking? If so, then the boy was even more incredible than they’d originally thought. He left the room, forcing his grogginess away.

      It wasn’t Haechan, but the kid was lying awake on the couch, in pajamas, he was staring into empty space, his expression was unreadable. Although he looked like he’d just gotten out of the shower, which was a good sign. Doyoung was frying something in the kitchen. He waved Yuta over. He looked over at Haechan from the corners of his tired looking eyes before staring at Yuta intently, “He is not okay.”

      “I can tell.” Yuta agreed, worrying his lower lip.

      “He kept mumbling Mark’s name and crying in his sleep,” Doyoung whispered, checking on Haechan every now and then. Haechan didn’t move from his spot. “I had to force him into the shower this morning.”

      “What time did he wake up?” Yuta asked.

      “Around 4 in the morning.” Doyoung said.

      “I’m gonna kill that Mark kid.” Yuta swore.

      “Not you, too!” Doyoung sounded frustrated. “That doesn’t help right now. We need to focus on Haechan. Go check if he’s still coming with you today.”

      Yuta was about to sit on the couch near Haechan when the boy stood suddenly, like he came upon a realization, “I didn’t do anything wrong!” He announced.

      “You didn’t.” Yuta agreed.

      “Not a single wrong thing.” Doyoung joined in.

      “Whatever his reason was, it had nothing to do with me. And if he chooses not to tell me then there’s absolutely nothing I can do to change his decision.” He continued. Doyoung and Yuta agreed again. “But I could make him regret it.” Haechan said softly.

      “I’m hungry,” Haechan said, his attitude shifting so swiftly Yuta felt dizzy for a moment. “That smells good.” He walked to the kitchen and helped a shocked Doyoung finish up breakfast.

      “When are your tryouts?” Haechan asked Yuta.

      “At 3, but I want us to be there a bit earlier than that.”

      “Great, I can’t wait!” Haechan said a little too enthusiastically. Yuta and Doyoung looked at each other in utter confusion. “Do you guys want to watch a movie for now?” He said.

      “I’d love to,” Yuta said, shoveling food down his throat as fast as he could. “But I have class.”

      “I’ll stay here.” Doyoung said. “I’ve never missed a lecture before so I’m curious to see what it feels like.” Yuta admired Doyoung’s commitment to taking care of Haechan. They both knew how much Doyoung enjoyed going to class.

      “Thanks,” Haechan said. “See you later, Yuta.”

 

 

      Class after class blurred together. Yuta was looking forward to trying out for the team. He was confident he would make the team, but still he was nervous. It was probably because he wanted it to happen badly. He went back to the dorm after he was done with his early classes. There, he prepared for the tryouts, packing everything he would need and changing his clothes. Haechan was waiting for him in the living room when he was done. Haechan was dressed in a pale purple sweatshirt and a faded pair of jeans.

      They arrived at the football field about thirty minutes early. Yuta started warming up while Haechan sat at one of the benches to watch. He supposed he looked like he knew what he was doing because a particularly tall and lost looking guy walked up to him to ask him if he was in the right place. Yuta wondered what it was about their university’s football field that made people question it. A part of him went so far as to feel offended on its behalf. Yuta told the guy that he was, in fact, standing in the football field.

      “Great!” The guy all but yelled. His smile wide and charming. When he slapped Yuta’s arm while thanking him, Yuta braced himself. But the guy was surprisingly gentle. “I’m really nervous.” He admitted to Yuta, rubbing a palm over his chest as though to further portray the message he was sending.

      “Me too.” Yuta said, smiling back at the guy.

      “OH!” The guy said suddenly, a hand coming up to curl loosely over his forehead. “I forgot to introduce myself,” after this he had a fit of laughter. “I’m Lucas, it’s nice to meet you…?” He cocked his head at Yuta.

      “Yuta.” Lucas smiled and nodded, but then he looked somewhere behind Yuta and a concerned frown occupied the place of the wide smile. “Oh no, is he okay?” Lucas said. Yuta realized that Lucas was looking at Haechan. Yuta turned to find his friend crying again. “Oh, God.” Yuta said.

      “I’ll go talk to him.” Lucas said, moving towards Haechan before Yuta could stop him. He followed.

      “Are you okay?” Lucas said, sitting next to Haechan.

      “No.” Haechan said as tears slid down his cheeks. Lucas put a tentative hand on Haechan’s shoulder and Haechan pulled the hand so that Lucas’ arm now enveloped him and he leaned into Lucas, placing his head on Lucas’ broad shoulder.

      “Who are you?” Haechan asked Lucas while his tears wet the guy’s shirt.

      “Wong Yuk—I mean,” Lucas sputtered, taken aback. “I’m Lucas… We’ve met.”

      “I don’t remember.” Haechan said, not moving his head from Lucas’ shoulder. Yuta wasn’t sure what to do, but he cleared his throat and Haechan sat up, finally taking a good look at Lucas. “Oh, you’re the guy who wouldn’t let Jeno do his job.” Then Haechan wiped at his face, it seemed the two waterfalls have ceased to pour for the time being. Lucas smiled, “That’s me.”

      “Uh,” Yuta cut in. “Do you want me to take you back to the dorm?” He asked Haechan.

      “No, I’m fine here. Really, it was just that the grass looked so sad when you kicked it.” Haechan explained. Yuta’s mouth dropped open. But Lucas laughed.

      “Well?” Haechan said, eyeing them. “Go back to what you were doing.” And so they did. Lucas told Yuta that he was trying out for next year, when he would hopefully join the university on a football scholarship. He explained that he was currently in his senior year of high school, shocking Yuta. He also said that he was originally from Hong Kong, but his family moved to Korea after he graduated from middle school. Yuta just nodded, he didn’t feel like sharing his own story was necessary.

      When they were done, the coach told them that she would let them know whether they made it by the end of the week. Yuta ran back to where Haechan sat, his hair dripping sweat. But he was surprised to find someone else there talking to Haechan. He wasn’t sure who it was, but the figure looked extremely familiar even from the back. _Taeyong?_

      “You have pink hair.” Yuta said from behind Taeyong. Taeyong turned around, grinning his feline grin, “You like?” He asked simply.

      “I—” Yuta stared. He needed to close his mouth before he started drooling. Taeyong looked amazing. Yuta’s hand flew up to touch Taeyong’s light pink locks.

      “Okaaaaay!” Haechan said, getting up. “I’m going now before Yuta embarrasses himself more than he already has. I’ll see you guys later.” But Yuta wasn’t listening.

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> 

      Haechan wasn’t crying because the grass looked sad. He was crying because he missed Mark and the big tall guy with the loud laughter was somehow reminding Haechan of him. But when he got close and Haechan saw him properly, he knew he was nothing like Mark. The illusion shattered and he was able to calm down. He knew he was acting crazy, but he was sad and everyone would just have to deal with it. He walked around campus aimlessly, wondering if he should text Jeno to talk to him about what happened. He didn’t want to burden him, though, so he decided against it. He could talk to Jaemin and Renjun, but they might bring Jeno into it and the guy had more than enough on his plate. No, he would hang out with them when he was over Mark. He hoped that would happen before his friends forgot what he looked like. Someone tapped his shoulder, he turned around, his attitude in full swing, “What?” He snapped.

      It was Lucas. “Oh, hi.” Haechan said.

      “Hello,” Lucas smiled. “You’re young right?”

      “I’m 16.”

      “Oh!” Lucas exclaimed with a clap. “I’m 17. How are you in college at your age?” He looked genuinely curious. So Haechan replied with the truth, “I’m a genius.”

      “Wow. That is so cool.”

      “Sure.” Haechan really did not want to get into how uncool it felt at the moment.

      “I need advice.”

      “I’m a genius, not a counselor.” Haechan informed him.

      “Yeah, but you’re smart.”

      “You’d be surprised.” Haechan deadpanned.

      “What are you doing right now?” Lucas asked. Haechan weighed his options. He could tell Lucas to piss off and continue his aimless stroll through campus, he could go back to the dorm and have another depression coma, or he could spend time with this somewhat distracting and somewhat amusing large human.

      “I’m free.” Haechan said.

      Lucas didn’t have a particular place for them to go to in mind. A vague idea began to form by itself in a dark corner of Haechan’s mind. Was it a good idea? Would it even work? Haechan didn’t have the slightest clue. But some deranged part of him was enticed by it. He fought against it for a few minutes, but in the end, the sensible part of him lost the battle. “I know just the place.” Haechan told Lucas.

      Haechan felt confident as he pushed the café’s door open. He willed his hands to stop shaking. A small part of him still tried to reason with the bigger more petty part of him. _You could still turn back._ He ignored it and pushed inside, Lucas trailing after him. He didn’t look for Mark, in fact, he made sure to avoid looking at anyone in a uniform. He pulled Lucas with him when he found a good unoccupied table. “I’ll have a hazelnut latte.” He told Lucas. The corner of Lucas’ mouth lifted, “Okay.” He said, as he got up to buy Haechan coffee. When he came back Haechan took a sip before saying, “This isn’t a date.”

      “I didn’t think it was.”

      “Good,” Haechan took another sip. “So? What did you want me to help you with?”

      Lucas took a deep breath, “Okay,” He said, taking his phone out of his pocket and showing Haechan a picture of himself with a girl. “Do you think she’s pretty?”

      “Uh… I like a boy.” Haechan said. “I mean boys. I like boys.”

      “But you can still appreciate beauty right? In an objective way.”

“Yeah, she’s pretty. Why?”

      “Well,” Lucas said nervously. “I think she’s pretty too. But every time I think it, even while I’m looking at her, the face of my best friend pops into my head.”

      “Uh…” Haechan said.

      “My best friend is a guy.”

      “Okay?”

      “Does that make me gay?” Lucas’ eyebrows were knitted in confusion. Haechan almost laughed. “Not necessarily.” Haechan replied.

      Lucas shook his head, “Not even a genius knows the answer.”

      “Don’t call me a genius,” Haechan told him. It reminded him of Mark. “Besides, you shouldn’t be coming to me for romantic advice, I just got dumped for no reason.”

      “Who would dump you?” Lucas said, smiling flirtatiously at Haechan. Then he frowned, “His face just came to my mind again.”

      “Yeah, you’re probably gay. Or at least bi.” Lucas’ laughter shook the walls of the café.

      “Haechan?” Renjun had walked into the café while Lucas was laughing and so Haechan hadn’t been able to hear his approach. He was with Sicheng.

      “Hey,” Haechan said. “You guys know each other?” He asked Sicheng and Renjun.

      “Just because we’re both Chinese, doesn’t mean we know each other.” Renjun replied.

      “You came in together.” Haechan countered.

      “Oh,” Renjun smiled. “Right. Sorry, stress. We go to dance class together, remember?”

      “Right. This is Lucas.” Haechan started only to be cut off by Renjun, “I know him.” At Haechan’s knowing expression Renjun said, “Not because he’s Chinese, but Jeno’s always complaining about him whenever he comes in. Sorry Lucas, he complains about how nice you are if that makes it any better.” Lucas looked up and tilted his head in concentration while he debated whether or not he should be offended. In the end, he just shrugged and smiled at Renjun and Sicheng.

      “So nice.” Renjun said, taking a seat. Sicheng was just grabbing a coffee and leaving, as he had a midterm in an hour. He said goodbye and left. Haechan still didn’t look around to see if Mark was there. He felt like wings of moths flapped all over his skin. He also felt like there were about a hundred pairs of eyes on him, but he could be imagining it.

      “How were midterms?” He asked Renjun, forcing his attention where he wanted it to be.

      “We’re worried about Jeno. But at least we’re done,” He replied. “I’ll grab a drink then we’ll get to the actually important stuff.” Renjun winked before getting up. _Oh no…_

      Haechan smiled awkwardly at Lucas. He considered bolting, leaving Lucas and Renjun behind. He was about to do it, but when he got up and turned to run for the door Renjun was in his space, “You and Mark broke up?” He said in Haechan’s ear. Haechan rubbed the back of his neck, he couldn’t do this here.

      “I have to go.” He said.

      “I’m coming with you.” Renjun declared. They both looked at a very uncomfortable looking Lucas at the same time. “I need to deal with something, so I’m leaving too,” He said. “Thanks for the help, Haechan.”

      “No worries.” Haechan said.

      “Come on, let’s get out of here.” Renjun said, putting his arm around Haechan’s shoulders.

 

      They ended up at Renjun’s. Renjun texted the groupchat, calling it an emergency meeting, even though Haechan begged him not to tell the others. Jaemin and Jeno arrived together. They were settling down in Renjun’s room when the doorbell rang. Renjun didn’t know who it could be, but he ran downstairs and came back with a smug looking Chenle.

      “Which one of you told him about this?” Renjun asked, showing them Chenle by holding him by the arm. When the question was met with only silence, Chenle admitted to Jisung hacking himself and Chenle into their group chat.

      “That’s so creepy. How long have you been in there?” Jeno said.

      “Why didn’t you just ask to join?” Jaemin asked.

      “Would you have let us?” Chenle answered.

      “I would have added Jisung.” Jaemin replied.

      “It’s a good thing I’m the admin, then,” Renjun said. “And to answer your question, Chenle, no, I would not have added either one of you.”

      “Jisung is the real admin.” Chenle countered, his smugness increasing by the second.

      “Where is he?” Haechan asked.

      Chenle looked at Haechan, eyes briefly flicking down before he met Haechan’s eyes again and shrugged, “He couldn’t make it.” Then he flopped down on the bed, arms behind his head.

      “So what’s the emergency?” Jeno asked.

      “Mark broke up with me.” Shocked silence filled the room for about two seconds before Jaemin spoke, his tone full of judgment “When did you two even get together?”

      Then Jeno said, “Wow, you broke up before you started dating, there has to be a record there somewhere.”

      Chenle turned on his side and said, “He’s the love of your life, just get him back.”

      Renjun was the only one who remained silent. Haechan told Jaemin that they kissed Sunday night and that Mark dumped him yesterday. He didn’t dignify Jeno’s comment with an answer. He finally faced Chenle and said, “I can’t get him back if he doesn’t want me, kid.” Bringing back the wise voice he’d used with Jisung on the phone the day before.

      “I’m only a year younger than you, chill.” Chenle rolled his eyes.

      “Guys give him a break, he’s hurting.” Renjun said. Tears threatened to fall from Haechan’s eyes, but suddenly he was being choked. Renjun had taken his arm from Haechan’s shoulder and was now pressing it to his throat, “What did you do?” He asked Haechan.

      The tears fell but Haechan was laughing, “Nothing!” He yelled, pulling at Renjun’s arm.

      “Stop that you’ll kill him!” Jaemin yelled before he jumped on Haechan, joining Renjun in attempted murder. Jeno laughed and joined in as well. Now Haechan had all three of his best friends attacking him. He fought back, but it was useless. Chenle remained on the bed, ignoring them. Haechan thought he heard him mumble, “And _we’re_ the kids…” Over their screams and laughter. They stopped talking about Mark after that. That is, until Chenle went home. Then Haechan gave them the details of what happened. Even mentioning his pathetic attempts at getting Mark back. The only thing he left out was when Mark shoved him so hard he fell on the floor. He doubted his friends would forgive Mark for that.

      “So what’s the plan now?” Jaemin asked.

      “I have an idea…” Haechan said and he told them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally added chapter titles and I'm so excited about them lmao


	12. Okay, Let's Get It

      Mark wasn’t sure how he was still functioning. He woke up, showered, went to school, went to work, did his homework, went to sleep, then he did it all over again the next day. _Eat something. Drink some water._ A voice inside his head would remind him every now and then. The voice was honey sweet and high, it sounded like bells ringing. His coping mechanism of choice wasn’t smart, but it worked; in the morning, when he opened his eyes, he felt Donghyuck’s warmth in the sunrays, which lured him out of bed. And in the shower when he washed his hair, he felt Donghyuck’s fingers threading through it. His careless scrubbing would slow, gently massaging his aching head. At night when exhaustion and regret settled over him and weighed him down and his heart threatened to swallow him whole, phantom arms wrapped themselves around him, soothing, understanding, keeping him together until morning came. He probably didn’t deserve the comfort he provided himself through his imagination, but he needed it to survive. For the past two nights, Mark dreamt only of kisses that tasted like tears.

      Yesterday had been hard to handle, but it was nowhere near as difficult as the day before, when he’d destroyed the most beautiful thing that had ever happened to him with his own two hands. He thought he would have some time to prepare himself. That he would find a way to end things with Donghyuck without hurting him too badly. That he’d find a way to make the other boy hate him, to make him _want_ to leave him. But he’d gotten home to find Donghyuck still there and in Mark’s clothes. Mark didn’t think he would ever forget the look on Donghyuck’s face when he’d seen him. He looked so afraid.

 _Why are you still here?_ He’d asked, hoping Donghyuck would understand the question and give him a different answer than the one he’d been told earlier that day. But whether Donghyuck understood Mark’s question or not, he knew the answer would be the same. He thought he’d always known. Mark still couldn’t believe he’d been able to do it, even with Donghyuck’s mouth hot and demanding against his own, begging him not to with all he could, even with his hands all over him, even when they slid lower and his lips followed, trailing soft, persuasive kisses down Mark’s neck—

      But he’d had to stop him before it went too far, before Mark was too far gone to think, to remember to do the right thing. He’d almost failed more than once; melting in Donghyuck’s arms, his own body burning and his breathing ragged, opening up for Donghyuck’s ruthless kisses and pulling Donghyuck to himself as though he could weld their bodies together, that way no line of logic would be able to force them to separate again. But in the process of stopping him, he’d hurt him. Mark didn’t miss the sound Donghyuck made when he hit the floor, nor did he miss the wince that twisted his features, or the way he’d limped when he’d gotten back up and made his way to Mark again. Mark remembered how his head had pounded in panic, his chest squeezing so tightly he couldn’t breathe, his arms extending much too late to catch Donghyuck, then staying where they were to ward him off. He was the one responsible for the pain Donghyuck felt, for the tears that slid down his face which he longed to wipe away, for the shaking in his voice and in his hands which he longed to steady, for how his lips had trembled, and Mark would never forgive himself for any of it.

      Mark wished Donghyuck had stormed off, leaving him behind to his misery. He’d wished Donghyuck had yelled at him, told him he never deserved him anyway. He’d wished for anything other than Donghyuck fighting for him. So Mark was forced to be the one to leave. Donghyuck stayed there for God knows how long. But Mark stayed upstairs until he heard the door open and close. He remembered how difficult it had been to try to keep some semblance of control in front of the other boy. But the moment he walked into his room and found Donghyuck’s clothes from the night before, the dam that had kept his tears at bay broke. That night, he took the pile of clothes and folded them, keeping them apart from his clothes in case Donghyuck asked for them back. But when the hours passed and all he could do is to lie awake in bed with self-loathing keeping him company, he’d slipped out from under the comforter to grab the pile and take it back with him under the sheets. Then he’d been able to fall asleep with Donghyuck’s scent overwhelming his senses.

      The next day, the last person he’d expected to see at work was Donghyuck. But there he was and with a giant in tow. Mark was taking an order when Donghyuck had walked in. A lukewarm caramel mocha, decaf with skimmed milk and only half a shot of coffee. He almost dropped his pen when he saw Donghyuck, who looked amazing, his purple sweatshirt gave his honey skin an even more intense glow. A churning began in Mark’s stomach and a headache formed behind his eyes. Then he looked at the guy Jeno hated, Lucas was his name, and his jaw set in anger.

      “Excuse me?” The customer said. He looked at her, remembering that he was supposed to ask her name, “Name.” He said robotically.

      “Alice.” The girl said.

      “Okay, next in the line.” He said.

      “Hello,” It was Lucas. “I’ll have an iced Americano and a hazelnut latte.” The order was simple, Mark resented that. But he took it. “Names?” He asked through his teeth.

      “Lucas for the Americano and Haechan for the latte.”

      “I see.” Mark said. Then Lucas had taken the drinks and sat across from Donghyuck. Lucas was probably in college, he definitely looked it. Mark watched as Lucas said something and the corner of Donghyuck’s lips twitched, holding back laughter. He knew the expression well, it was one Donghyuck often used when he found some embarrassing thing Mark said amusing. His hands clenched into fists. Customers piled in, he took their orders with one eye on Donghyuck. Then Renjun had come in. When he asked Mark how things were between him and Donghyuck with a suggestive wink, Mark had simply told him that it was over. Renjun gave him a look that froze him to the core and went back to Donghyuck. Mark spent his shift fuming and kicking himself even after they left. Renjun pulling Donghyuck with him after he spoke to Mark. It was windy that day, and the cold air that came into the café when the door swung open to let Donghyuck out stung like a slap.

      The next day, Mark found an antisocial looking table at lunch, he placed his tray on it and faced the wall. That was when the strangest thing happened; Jaemin threw himself on the chair opposite Mark’s and smiled. “What’s up?” He said like this happened every day.

      “Uh.” Was Mark’s answer.

      “So the food sucks huh?” Jaemin said, resting his cheek in his palm.

      “What’s going on?” Mark asked.

      “Nothing. Can’t I sit here?”

      “Sure you can… But why?” Mark was extremely suspicious.

      “Fine!” Jaemin said, throwing his hands up theatrically. “I had a fight with Jeno.”

      “Oh,” Mark said. “Sorry.”

      “It’s cool, it happens.”

      “Yeah.” Mark agreed, awkwardly stabbing his food. He wasn’t used to sitting with Jaemin alone and after what happened with Donghyuck he assumed they would never speak to him again.

      “Aren’t you going to ask what we fought about?” Jaemin said.

      “Not really.” Mark answered truthfully.

      “Well, I didn’t want to talk about it anyway, so that’s good.”

      “Okay.” Mark said.

      “And I won’t ask you why you and Haechan broke up before you even started dating.” Jaemin said pointedly and Mark froze, suddenly not hungry.

      “That’s good,” Mark said after a few seconds. “Because I don’t want to talk about that either.” They ate quietly after.

      After school, Mark walked into the café with his head down, not a smart move because he dove headfirst into Yuta’s jaw. “I’m so—” Mark paused mid apology because Yuta had his eyes closed and was clutching at his jaw, while next to him, another one of Haechan’s roommates was giving him a look that made him wonder how his bones had not evaporated yet. “Sorry.” He finished in a small voice. Yuta flexed his jaw and cracked his neck for good measure. Mark winced.

      “Hello Mark,” The guy with the evil energy said. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

      “I’ve got work to do.” Mark said, trying to slip past them, but the guy stopped him, “We won’t take long, I just have something to tell you.”

      Mark was getting angry, but he forced his expression to stay neutral, “And what’s that?” He asked.

      “Stay away from Haechan.” The guy smiled sweetly, his demeanor changing dramatically. “That’s all.”

      “I plan on it.” He answered.

      “He’s too good for you.” The guy said.

      Mark agreed, “That he is.” The guy’s face twisted in confusion, he looked at Yuta questioningly, like Mark wasn’t giving him the responses he had hoped for.

      “We’ll be around.” Yuta said, pulling the guy with him. But for some reason Mark couldn’t feel much heat behind the threat from him. When they left, Mark felt even more toxic than before. Like he was a vile thing that caused every good thing around him to wither and die. The rest of the afternoon was peaceful. That is, until Jeno came into the café. He completely ignored Mark, not even bothering to say hello. Mark thought he deserved it, so he let it go, working alongside the other quietly.

      When his shift ended, he went to the back to change. What he saw when he reemerged made his blood run cold. There he was again laughing with Renjun. Mark swore he never came to the café this often before. How could he look so happy? Did he not care at all? Nothing added up. Had Mark hurt him so badly that it had taken him less than a day to get over him? He was frozen in place, his skin tingled as he waited for Donghyuck to notice him. He felt like a bucket of ice had been emptied over his head when Donghyuck’s eyes skimmed over him and continued their scan along the café, like Mark was invisible, like he was nothing. He wasn’t sure what he expected, but it wasn’t this. He just watched as Donghyuck’s eyes found their target, following the path of where he was looking until his eyes landed on Jeno.

      “Hey, Jeno!” Donghyuck called out.

      “Donghyuck.” Jeno said and ran up to him. Mark felt like a ghost as he watched them. Jeno sidling up to Donghyuck and taking one of his hands in his. He couldn’t hear their conversation. He could only watch uselessly as Jeno whispered in Donghyuck’s ear and Donghyuck blushed. Wasn’t Donghyuck with that Lucas guy yesterday? Weren’t Jaemin and Jeno a thing? When Jeno’s lips lingered on Donghyuck’s quickly reddening cheek Mark felt like he might scream, so he started moving. He headed for the door as quickly as he could and went home. His entire body was shaking by the time he arrived. He wanted to punch Jeno. He wanted to shake Donghyuck. But he had no right to do any of it.

      Mark was seriously considering quitting his job the third day Donghyuck walked into the café looking unfairly attractive in a pair of ripped skinny jeans that made Mark vaguely wonder if he was cold and a thin white sleeveless shirt with an oversized jacket thrown over it. Mark couldn’t stop himself from looking at Donghyuck’s legs as he strode confidently into the café. It wasn’t like Donghyuck was going to notice his staring anyway, so he might as well continue torturing himself.

      He was supposed to bus tables today, but when Jeno came to the counter Mark shook his head at him, “I’m on counter duty today.” He said, putting as much assertiveness into his tone as he could muster.

      “But—” Jeno started. Mark cut him off, “Talk to the boss if you have a problem with it.” Jeno just shrugged and moved away from the counter. Mark tried not to watch them today, but it was impossible with how loudly Donghyuck was laughing. Mark didn’t remember Jeno ever being funny. If he didn’t quit, he was sure he would get fired because he got half the customers’ orders wrong and they’d had to have them remade.

      Mark was apologizing to an old lady whose order he’d mixed up with a student’s when it happened. Jeno was passing by Donghyuck’s table, sparing him a smile and wink when Donghyuck grabbed the rag Jeno had in his hand and pulled him back. Jeno let himself get dragged backwards to where Donghyuck was sitting. Donghyuck wasn’t satisfied, he tugged at the rag, hard. Jeno was forced to bend down. Now Donghyuck wrapped his arms around Jeno’s neck, leaning his head back to look at him. Jeno was bent awkwardly at the knees, but he didn’t seem to mind as he balanced his hands on the back of Donghyuck’s chair. Donghyuck whispered something into his ear and Jeno’s eyes snapped open and then fluttered closed. One of Donghyuck’s hands found its way into the hair at the back of Jeno’s head, his fingers slipping between his black locks. Mark’s vision blurred when Donghyuck’s lips found Jeno’s.

      “Are you alright?” The old lady asked him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so hard on you.” Mark ignored her, pulling his apron off. He walked out of the café. The sun was still high in the sky, burning the tears that rolled down his cheeks. He found it difficult to swallow and when he did, he tasted salt. He used the back of his hand to wipe his cheeks. The last thing he expected when he got home was to find Jisung and Chenle already sitting in his living room. They stood up when he walked in.

      “You’re crying.” Was the first thing Chenle said.

      “You should hide your spare keys in a better place.” Was the first thing Jisung said.

      “What are you doing in my house?” Was the first thing Mark said. “How did you know where I lived? Did Donghyuck tell you?”

      “I know where everyone lives.” Said Jisung.

      “He’s pretty much omniscient.” Chenle added.

      “But that’s besides the point.” Jisung said. Mark’s head was spinning. He lifted a hand to stop them from speaking. “Give me a second.” He said. Going into the kitchen to grab a glass of water then coming back to the living room and sitting on the couch.

      “Sit,” Mark told them. “Speak.”

      “We heard you and Haechan broke up and we want to help you get back together.” Chenle said.

      “I ended things with him,” Mark clarified. “I don’t want us back together.”

      “Cut the bullshit,” Jisung said, catching Mark off-guard. “We know why you did it. Chenle was waiting to talk to the principal and he saw the whole thing.”

      “Oh.” Was Mark’s only answer.

      “So?” Jisung said.

      “So what?” Mark retorted. “You know I did the right thing.”

      “I know you did the dumb thing,” Jisung said. Mark was too tired to get angry so he let the kid have his fun. “You assumed.”

      “Your mother was very clear.” Mark said. Mark didn’t add that she was very loud about it as well, but Jisung probably already heard from Chenle. Mark was amazed that the entire school didn’t hear her screaming at Mark as soon as she’d seen him walking down the hall. He was surprised to see her at the school. His first thought was that Jisung might be in trouble, but she walked towards Mark with purpose.

      “Do you see this?” She’d screamed, shoving an examination paper in Mark’s face. It looked like an aptitude test, the page she showed him had multiple-choice questions, the type that were automatically corrected by computers. But it had writing all over it. Mark wasn’t sure what he was supposed to understand from it, but he read the writing as he recognized it to be Donghyuck’s handwriting right away. It was a recipe for blueberry pie, Mark had almost laughed were it not for her searing gaze.

      “What is that?” He’d asked her.

      “It’s the reason Donghyuck is only a first year of college when he could be anything he wants to be,” She sneered. “He dumbed himself down for you.”

      Mark was still confused, “For me? What do you mean?”

      “You are the reason he wanted a ‘normal life’ when he could have had greatness. He wasted his life, threw his potential out the window for _you_.” She spat the last word. Mark had never felt so small in his entire life. That was until he’d hurt Donghyuck that same day.

      He remembered apologizing, but he wasn’t sure what he was apologizing for. He’d never asked Donghyuck to make any sacrifice for him. He’d only ever tried to be his friend. Then Donghyuck’s mother had gone back into the principal’s office and the rest of the yelling fell upon the principals ears, “How could you not have seen this? The first ten pages consist of Michael Jackson lyrics!” The principal’s answer had been too low for Mark to hear. But then Mark had gone home and he’d asked Donghyuck what he was still doing there. _I was waiting for you._ He had answered. Mark was slowing him down, holding him back. He never deserved someone like Donghyuck. All he did was ruin his life.

      Mark met Jisung’s eyes, “I’m the reason he threw his life away.”

      “Don’t flatter yourself.” Jisung said. “He made one big decision for your sake, sure, but it wasn’t hiding his genius.”

      “What do you mean?”

      “He wanted to be in the same grade as you.” Jisung explained. “He thought you stopped talking to him because he freaked you out after he kissed you when you injured your leg in P.E.” The pressure in his ears started to increase. “So he revealed his secret, but made sure to miss a lot of the questions even though he knew the correct answers to them. He still fucked up though and ended up in college.”

      Mark was hyperventilating. Donghyuck had done that for him and how had he repaid him? He broke his heart. He _hurt_ him. That day when Donghyuck took Mark to his dorm room for the first time Mark had asked him why he’d chosen to reveal his genius now of all times and Donghyuck had replied _I guess I got greedy._ Then Donghyuck had asked Mark why he’d chosen to stay in Korea instead of moving back to Canada when he’d gotten the chance. Mark had stolen Donghyuck’s answer, thinking he’d added a layer of meaning to it, but really they’d both meant to say the same thing. Mark was just too dumb to realize it. Donghyuck hadn’t gotten greedy for a more impressive life, a life that had no place for Mark in it. It was the opposite.

      “Stop panicking.” Chenle told him.

      “Okay.” He said, trying to calm himself. They watched him in a detached sort of way until he had his breathing under control.

      “I thought he liked Jeno.” Mark said.

      “What does Jeno have to do with this?” Chenle asked.

      “They kissed. I saw them.”

      “That’s disgusting.” Jisung said.

      “Not really,” Chenle countered and Jisung looked at him suspiciously. Chenle ignored the look. “He was probably trying to make you jealous.”

      “It doesn’t matter,” Mark said, still unsure. “I’m sure he hates me now after what I did to him.”

      Jisung said. “Look, Mark, I’m not like Haechan. I don’t really see the gray areas or read between the lines or any of it.” Jisung’s gaze traveled to Chenle for a moment before he continued. “But I’m going to do my best to help you.”

      “ _We_ are.” Chenle corrected. Mark looked back and forth between them.

      “What can you two do?”

      Jisung smiled, “Remember when you thought your phone was possessed?” Mark’s jaw dropped.

      “God Jisung’s power.” Chenle said, his smile just as terrifying as that of his best friend.

      “You’ll hack Donghyuck into forgiving me?” Mark deadpanned.

      “Are we sure we want this guy with Haechan?” Chenle asked Jisung like Mark was just another piece of furniture.

      “Jeno’s really fun to be around…” Jisung said thoughtfully.

      “Okaaaaaay, no no no no. I want your help.” Mark said. When they didn’t say anything he added, “Please.”

      They smiled and Mark relaxed.

      It was Saturday morning and Mark was being dragged out of bed by a 14 year old. “Okay, I’m up.” He said, but Jisung was relentless.

      “We need to practice.” Jisung told him.

      “I’m not doing that.” Mark said for what felt like the millionth time.

      “Come on!” Chenle said from somewhere within his room. Mark would find out if he opened his eyes.

      “It’s creepy and I’m not doing it.”

      “Fine. Go shower you stink.” Mark knew for a fact that he did not stink but Jisung was a very angry, very intelligent teenager with a lot of abilities so Mark let it slide. It was mostly out of fear, but he told himself he was being the bigger person for the sake of his pride.

      “Did you tell Jeno that you were coming in late today?” Chenle reminded him.

      “Yes.”

      “Good,” Jisung said. “Chenle did they write anything in the new group chat?”

      “The last thing they wrote was that they were meeting up at the café before Mark got there to regroup.”

      “I’ve got to admire them for still using the old group chat thinking they could trick us. It’s cute.” Jisung said. Mark was afraid again so he went into the bathroom to hide for a while. When he came out, he styled his hair, parting it to the side and adding some product, Chenle came closer to mess it up a little. Then he wore some of the accessories they’d brought him, which included a pair of fake earrings, a necklace that carried a glamorous cross and a ring. He wore jeans that felt too snug for his liking and were ripped to reveal only his knees, paired with a black half-sleeved t-shirt, the front of which he’d tucked into his jeans at Chenle’s instruction.

      “Are you sure about this?” He asked, looking at Chenle with the eyeliner in his hand.

      “Shhh.” Chenle said and drew around Mark’s eyes, then rubbed at the areas he’s drawn with his fingers. Jisung and Chenle asked him to rehearse with them again when he was ready and he refused again.

      “Fine,” Chenle said. “Then you’re as prepared as you could possibly be.”

      Mark looked at his reflection. He looked good. His eyes looked large, his hair looked shiny. He had gained some of the weight he’d lost back, he realized. “Okay, let’s get it.” He said. Jisung and Chenle both winced, but tried to cover it by smiling encouragingly at Mark’s reflection in the mirror. On their way to the café, they reminded him of all his dos and don’ts. But when they got close, Jisung suddenly stopped and told them he was going home. Mark asked Chenle if he was joining him to the café, he looked like he wanted to, but after turning back to take a look at Jisung’s face he said that he would sit it out as well. So Mark walked the rest of the way alone all the while reminding himself of what Jisung had told him; that Donghyuck would never forgive him if he didn’t forgive himself first.

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> 

      Haechan couldn’t believe how immature his friends were being. Jaemin was aiming sugar packets at Renjun’s open mouth. While Jeno made the world’s most disgusting drink.

      “Two more and I won’t have to drink that!” Jaemin said.

      “I hope you fail!” Renjun managed to say while keeping his mouth wide open. For some reason he also kept his arms sticking out straight on both sides of his body.

      “Haechan is clearly going to end up drinking it after his pitiful performance.” Jeno said with a sweet smile.

      “Jeno, don’t you care about your job anymore?” Haechan asked.

      “Not really.” Jeno answered lightly, adding a layer of whipped cream in the middle of the large plastic cup. Haechan rolled his eyes.

      “Let him live,” Jaemin said dramatically, leaning over the counter to squeeze Jeno’s face between his thumb and forefinger. “He’s too young to be this stressed out.”

      When the café door opened, they all turned towards it, thinking they would be fine as long as it wasn’t Jeno’s boss. But if it had been Jeno’s boss, Haechan wouldn’t have almost choked to death on his own saliva. Jaemin quickly remembered his role as the friend who had fallen out with Jeno and he slapped Jeno’s cheek. It sounded like it hurt and if Haechan wasn’t currently coughing to clear his airways and be able to gasp enough breath to stay alive, he might have winced. Renjun coughed the sugar packets onto his palm, closed his mouth and sat normally. Then Jaemin whispered in Haechan’s ear, “Good luck.” Before leaving. This was because Mark had apparently decided to start dressing like he wanted Haechan dead. “Pick your jaw up off the floor, quickly.” Renjun told him before taking his leave as well. Mark wasn’t supposed to show up until later. And he wasn’t supposed to look like that. Haechan was supposed to make him suffer, not the other way around. Haechan looked at Jeno, who frowned a little and shrugged, emptying the cup into the sink.

      “Hey.” Mark said, first looking at Jeno then at Haechan, who was still leaning on the counter. What did he sound so cocky for? Sure he looked like the best thing Haechan had ever seen and for a moment Haechan had completely forgotten what happened just five days ago and had almost maybe wanted to kiss him but still…

      “Hi.” Jeno said. Haechan ignored Mark. He went to sit on one of the many empty tables where he thought about calling Ten for back up. A customer came in, got a drink and left. Haechan continued to sulk all alone. Jeno texted him:

Should we…?

[received 9:00 AM]

      Haechan replied with a simple _No_. Jeno joined him anyway. Sitting across from him. A silent _Are you okay?_ In his eyes. Haechan rolled his eyes in Mark’s general direction. Did his pants need to be that tight? Since when did he even own pants like that. Thankfully he put his apron on. Another customer came in and Jeno gave Haechan an apologetic look before running for the counter. A second later Mark was standing over Haechan.

      “Can I get you anything?” Mark said, a smirk on his face.

      “Are you wearing make up?” Haechan asked him, focusing on a spot above Mark’s eyebrow.

      “A latte? An Americano? A sandwich? A cupcake? A—”

      “I know the café’s menu, I come here almost every day.” Haechan snapped. Mark just waited, his expression unchanging. “Since when do you do table service?” Haechan asked.

      “Well, like you said, you come here almost every day so—” Haechan cut him off again.

      “I don’t want anything.”

      “You sure?” Mark asked in a way that further convinced Haechan of the unfairness of life.

      “I am.” He said, resolute.

      “Alright.” Mark said. Then he pulled a cloth out of his apron and started wiping the clean table in front of Haechan.

      “What are you doing? The table’s clean.”

      “Oh, right.” Mark said, then he turned towards the very chair Haechan was sitting on and started wiping it down starting from the sides, which put his face dangerously close to Haechan’s and then moving to its legs, which was even more dangerous. He wiped them one by one, using one hand to wipe a leg while he used the other hand to steady himself in his crouching position on the chair right beside Haechan’s thigh.

      “Mark.” Haechan warned, his embarrassment probably showed on his face.

      “What?” Mark asked innocently, fully on his knees now and looking up at Haechan, but not touching him.

      “What are you doing?” Haechan sputtered.

“Trying to get your attention.” Mark answered.

      “Well, you have it, now stop.” Mark stood, patting his knees down.

      “We need to talk.” Mark said.

      “I’m not sure I want to talk to you.” Haechan answered.

      “Yet?” Mark said.

      Haechan was beginning to lose his temper, he didn’t know how Mark could do this after what he’d done. He didn’t say anything. Mark reached for him slowly. Without meaning to, Haechan instinctively recoiled from his touch. The shock and the hurt were clear on Mark’s face as he pulled his hand back quickly.

      “Whenever you’re ready,” Mark said. “I’ll keep asking. I hope that’s okay.” Haechan nodded imperceptivity but that was enough for Mark, who took off his apron and headed for the door.

      “Where are you going?” Haechan called out.

      “I don’t have a shift today.” Mark said, Haechan caught a small smile playing on his lips before he walked out.

      Haechan sat back, defeated, knowing in his bones that he was utterly and completely screwed.


	13. JISUNG STOP!

 

      Over the past week, Taeyong found living with Yoonoh to be extremely unbearable. He didn’t waste an opportunity to throw a jab in Taeyong’s direction, he huffed and puffed by way of breathing, he stomped around the dorm like he wanted his feet to break through the floor and into the ceiling of the level beneath them. Worst of all were the days Yuta came over. It was like Yoonoh waited for their conversation to ebb, turning into whispers, like he waited for when Taeyong thought he was getting somewhere and he would be right outside the door, ready to kill the mood. Taeyong wished locking the door would be enough, but every time Taeyong had Yuta eager and bothered, his breaths coming up short and his hands all over Taeyong, Yoonoh would start knocking on the door and calling out. If Taeyong weren’t worried about freaking Yuta out, he would suggest that they keep going. But Yuta always took Yoonoh’s interruptions as his cue to leave, groaning in anger before grabbing Taeyong’s pillow to cover up the necessary part, always remembering to give Taeyong one last lingering kiss before going back to his own dorm room without even looking in Yoonoh’s direction. It’s safe to say that Taeyong has been spending almost every night without a pillow underneath his head. In short, Taeyong needed to talk to Yoonoh about his behavior.

      Today was as good as any other day to have the talk. He was meeting up with Yuta later, so if things went south he could ask to spend the night at his dorm. He has been staring at Yoonoh’s profile while he played on his computer for the past hour, thinking about how to start the conversation in a way that wouldn’t lead to a fight. He ran out of safe options and just said, “We need to talk.”

      “Sounds serious.” Yoonoh said in monotone.

      “It doesn’t have to be.” Taeyong answered, catching the edge in his own tone and making a mental note to soften it the next time he spoke.

      “Just give me a sec.” Yoonoh said. Taeyong waited another ten minutes before he spoke again.

      “Yoonoh.”

      “Hold on, hyung.”

      “I waited 600 seconds.”

      “Oh wow, we’re counting seconds now okay.” He said, sounding about six years old. But he did snap his laptop shut, giving Taeyong his full attention. “What’s up?” He said. His eyes half lidded in the way they got when he was in a bad mood, which was becoming a constant feature of late. Now that Taeyong had Yoonoh’s attention, despite spending days thinking about this conversation he found he had no idea what to say.

      “What’s your deal?” Came out of Taeyong’s mouth. _Nice._

      “My deal?” Yoonoh said, his face already contorting as the anger, which was already there, surfaced swiftly.

      “Yeah,” Taeyong said. “You’re angry all the time. You keep cockblocking me and Yu--”

      “Cockblocking?” Yoonoh interrupted again. “How am I cockblocking you?”

      “You know what you do.”

      “No, I don’t. Please tell me.” Yoonoh said, his jaw set.

      “Well,” Taeyong started, unsure how to phrase it. “You’re always knocking at the door when we’re together.”

      “He’s here every day,” Yoonoh said. “Am I not supposed to talk to you at all when he’s around?”

      “That is not what I—” Taeyong said only to be cut off.

      “He comes into our lives out of nowhere, calls me a dumbass one night and then suddenly he’s what? Your boyfriend?”

      “It’s idiot. And we haven’t talked about that.” Taeyong said.

      “What?” Yoonoh asks.  

      “He called you an idiot, the world’s biggest at that, not a dumbass. And we haven’t talked about whether or not he’s my boyfriend yet.”

      “Yet? So you want to date him?” His voice was rising, he stood up, putting his computer down on the table harder than he needed to.

      “I’m already dating him.” Taeyong said calmly, still sitting on the couch.

      “You’ve known the guy for a month and you’re willing to throw our friendship of _years_ away just like that. You don’t even know if he’s your boyfriend!”

      “Whoa hold up,” Taeyong said, now he was standing too and he held his hands up at Yoonoh’s accusation. “How am I throwing our friendship away?”

      “You’re different, you never game, you never spend time with us. You don’t even want me talking to you.”

      “I’m the same.” Taeyong stated.

      “Have you looked in the mirror lately?” Yoonoh said, his voice dripped venom. He was referring to Taeyong’s new hair color. Sure he’d gotten the idea from Yuta’s blue hair but the reason he went out and dyed it had nothing to do with him.

      “This conversation isn’t going anywhere.” Taeyong said, ready to leave. He didn’t expect Yoonoh to follow him, much less the words that came out of his mouth as he did. Taeyong had his hand on the door handle when Yoonoh said, “So just because I didn’t want to fuck you, you went out and found a replacement.”

      Taeyong wasn’t sure what he was feeling. Was it rage? Embarrassment? All he knew was that his head was pounding, a pressure pressed against his ears and his chest flushed in anger. He tried to steady his breathing. It took everything in him not to turn back and punch his closest friend right in the nose. Instead, his hand fisted around the door handle and he went out into the hall. But Yoonoh never knew when to quit. He came after him, grabbed his arm and spun him around.

      “I was right, wasn’t I? This is what you wanted?” Yoonoh’s face was close to his, he started nosing at his cheek. This was low, even for Yoonoh. “Is this how I get you back?” Yoonoh whispered, gooseflesh rose along Taeyong’s skin. Taeyong pulled his arm back, prepared himself for the pain that would surely go through his fist and arm once he did what he was about to do. He knew he’d reached the end of his patience and no matter how hard he tried to leash his anger, it yanked him right back into its fiery pit.

      Everything happened so quickly. One moment Yoonoh was in his space, the next he was about two feet out of Taeyong’s reach. Taeyong’s arm felt completely fine, because he hadn’t been able to do anything yet. Yuta stood between them, confusion and rage written all over his features. He was the one who pulled Yoonoh off of Taeyong. Taeyong ignored him, pushed past him, and walked towards Yoonoh. That was when he clocked him in the nose. Pain shot up his arm, Yoonoh was on the floor, groaning in agony and clutching his nose. Taeyong cradled his fist to his chest.

      “What the fuck is your problem?” Taeyong yelled at his injured friend, concern still rising in his chest even in the midst of all the rage.

      “I hate you.” Yoonoh groaned, half-sitting up and looking at Yuta, He completely disregarded Taeyong, even though he was the one who punched him and the anger should be directed at him. Taeyong might have laughed at Yuta’s incredulous expression if he wasn’t so pissed off.

      “Get a grip, Yoonoh. I’ll talk to you when you’ve got your head out of your ass,” Taeyong spat and he left, pulling Yuta behind him.

<<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>>

      Haechan was suffering. His right leg jumped up and down, occasionally hitting the desk and alarming the sleeping student to his left. He sat at the very last row, hiding his red face in his hoodie as best as he could. If someone asked, he would say that the afternoon sun coming in through the windows was aimed right at his eyes, which it was. The professor couldn’t see him from here anyway, so he held his phone up on the desk, angling it so that it would not reflect the sunrays into his eyes and render him blind as he read through the texts he’d received and ignored from Mark throughout the past week, starting from the night after the day Mark had asked him to talk and Haechan told him that he wasn’t ready. He wasn’t sure if he was embarrassed of Mark’s texts or from them.

      The first handful of texts were similar. Mark telling Donghyuck how much he missed talking to him, how Mark wished Donghyuck would give him a chance to explain, that Mark was watching the sunrise and it reminded him of Donghyuck, then later on that same day, a text that Mark was watching the sunset and it reminded him of Donghyuck, the following morning Mark wrote that he was listening to Stevie Wonder’s cover of _Sunny_ on repeat _. Remember that song?_ Mark wrote, _I’ve always loved it because it reminds me of you._ Then after a few days without a response Mark changed his tone. In one of the texts Mark wrote him that he was having a snack and it reminded him of Donghyuck. Another said that Mark was cold in his bed and wished Donghyuck was there to help him get warm. Some of the texts were ridiculous like Mark ran into a wall and heard Donghyuck laughing at him in his head or Mark burned an egg and it reminded him of Donghyuck, this text was followed by an explanation that the burnt egg actually looked nothing like him, but that the act of failing at cooking reminded Mark of him. The first few texts made him sad and angry at the same time. He was slightly offended when he read the one about the snack. The ones about Mark’s clumsiness brought a smile to his face, but he caught himself and stopped it from spreading. For the most part he was blushing and he felt a strong need to kick Mark’s ass for being the reason behind it. He knew he would get his explanation when he spoke to Mark, but he was afraid it wouldn’t be good enough. And if it wasn’t good enough… what then?

      He sucked in his breath at the latest text, which had a picture attached to it. It was from this morning. His leg hit the table hard when he saw it and the student next to him sat up, gave him the stink eye before he gave up on his nap and started taking notes. It was a mirror selfie, which might have made Haechan laugh as it was clearly meant to make him reminisce the days when he and his friends teased a thirteen-year-old Mark about taking so many mirror selfies back in middle school. But in the picture, Mark looked nothing like he had when he was in middle school. He was clad in only a towel and in the text Mark wistfully admitted how much he wished Donghyuck had been there with him, as it was apparently a very refreshing shower he’d just had. The smirk he’d had on his face… in a fucking mirror selfie… _dork._ Haechan realized belatedly that he’d said that out loud and the guy on his left got up and stormed out of the lecture hall. Haechan thought he’d ought to block the bastard, but he knew he would end up at the café after his classes, hoping Mark had a shift today. It was pathetic. So he decided to ask his friends to stage an intervention for him, which he texted to the group chat. Jaemin sent him an eyerolling emoji, Jeno sent a thousand laughing ones, Renjun told him that he should talk to Mark. This was strange; as the plan had been to make Mark suffer, not end his misery… And Haechan was not the only one to notice it, the chat was flooded with question marks from all three of them. No reply came from Renjun A moment later, Jaemin texted Haechan privately:

The new shirt I bought tore.

I should have seen this coming, don’t you think?

[received 2:30 PM]

      This was code for when their group chat was compromised. They knew they were risking it by creating a new one hoping that Jisung and Chenle wouldn’t find it and spy on them if they kept it a secret. But his brother was too good. He texted Jaemin back immediately:

No point getting a new one.

It’s entirely my fault.

[sent 2:30 PM]

      And it was. Come to think of it, he hadn’t spoken to his brother in quite a while… How long has it been? After a minute, Haechan remembered the last conversation they’d had. It was over two weeks ago, when he’d called Jisung to share his wisdom about him and Chenle, the day before he got together with Mark only for Mark to break up with him the next day. He was really starting to feel like more and more of a rotten brother. Had he really been so immersed in his pain that he forgot to check up on his little brother? Jisung certainly hadn’t forgotten him. Here he was hacking into Renjun’s phone and trying to get him back with the Love of his Life… It was really heart warming. He opened the group chat and wrote:

I will.

Soon.

[sent 2:35 PM]

<<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>

      Yuta was begging Taeyong to let him take him to the infirmary. He seemed fine, but he kept clenching and unclenching his fist as he paced the tiny length of Yuta’s room. He wasn’t crying out in pain as he did, so it wasn’t broken at least. But Taeyong was really pissed and Yuta had to wonder if it was the anger and adrenaline that hid the pain.

      “If you won’t go to the infirmary, sit down at least.” Yuta said. And Taeyong did, thankfully, finally taking a seat on Yuta’s bed. He was holding a glass of water, which Yuta had given him, in his other hand. “Drink,” Yuta said. “Please.”

      Taeyong eyed him for a few seconds before bringing the glass to his lips. Yuta noted that Taeyong was very silent in his anger. He approached him carefully. After he sat next to him, he held out his palm for Taeyong. Taeyong turned a little towards him and put his fist in Yuta’s waiting palm. Yuta grabbed the bowl of ice and towel and held the towel filled with ice as gently as he could against Taeyong’s fist. Taeyong didn’t so much as flinch and Yuta took it as a good sign even though he was a little worried about Taeyong’s mental state. It took ten minutes for Taeyong to break the silence.

      “We were supposed to go out today. I’m sorry.” Is what he said.

      “How do you feel?” Yuta asked.

      “Angry.” Taeyong answered.

      “I meant your fist,” Yuta said with a little forced laugh, even though that wasn’t entirely true.

      “Ah,” Taeyong said. “It’s fine. I didn’t hit him that hard.”

      “Why?”

      “I didn’t want to break his nose.” Taeyong said without feeling.

      “I meant why did you hit him?” Yuta clarified.

      “Oh.”

      “You don’t have to explain if you don’t want to…”

      “I do—I want to explain,” He stopped to look at Yuta full on. “But I want to know something first.”

      “What’s that?” Yuta’s heart raced under the intensity of Taeyong’s gaze.

      “Do you want to be my boyfriend?” That caught him by surprise. The truth was that Yuta had been thinking of Taeyong as his boyfriend for weeks now.

      “I thought I already was.” He admitted, hoping that it was the right move and that he wouldn’t scare Taeyong off. But Taeyong sighed, a relieved sound. Then he smiled and said, “Good.” Yuta nearly jumped out of his skin when Taeyong dropped the ice cold dripping wet towel in Yuta’s lap only to grab fistfuls of Yuta’s hair as he closed the distance between their faces and pushed Yuta down on the bed.

<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>

      Haechan needed to talk to his brother. He was sitting alone in the lecture hall. He stayed in his corner while the students piled out. He texted him:

I’m coming home, prepare the ice cream!

[sent 3:45 PM]

      The reply came a few minutes later:

I’m not home.

I’m busy.

[received 3:49 PM]

      Haechan frowned and wrote:

With what?

[sent 3:39 PM]

      He didn’t get a reply after that. Jisung was probably mad at him for not keeping him updated on the Mark situation for so long. He called him. At the fifth ring, it was Chenle on the line, “Hello?”

      “Chenle?” Haechan said.

      “No?” Chenle answered in a poor attempt to copy Jisung’s way of speaking. “It’s Jisung.”

      “Chenle let me talk to him.”

      “He’s in the bathroom.”

      “I’ll wait.”

      “He’s constipated.” Chenle said then Haechan thought he heard him say, “OW!” But it was muffled. Jisung was definitely there with him.

      “Where are you guys?”

      “At school.” Chenle lied.

      “It’s almost 4 PM.”

      “Gotta go.” He hung up.

      Now Haechan was left with three options: He could go to the café and stalk Mark, he could go home to check if Jisung was there and lied about it, or he could go to the dorm and have a depression nap.

      Haechan’s walk back to the dorm was comical. He kept turning back towards the café then turning again and heading for the dorm until he got dizzy and stopped walking altogether.

      “Kid, you got a phone?” someone said from behind him. He knew the voice and rolled his eyes immediately.

      He faced Yoonoh, “Yes, I do.” He said without offering it. Then he took a good look at the guy’s face and said, “Whoa what happened to you?”

      “Got punched. Can I use it?”

      Haechan pursed his lips to keep from laughing out loud. The guy had it coming, “What for?” He asked.

      “None of yo—” He stopped himself. “I need to talk to my friend but I left my phone in the dorm because the person who punched me might be there.” Haechan was getting bored, so he handed him the phone but eyed him suspiciously in case he stole it.

      “Hey,” Yoonoh said holding Haechan’s phone up to his ear. “Can you meet me at the café?” The person on the other end said something. “Great.” He paused then said, “Thank you.”

      He handed Haechan the phone back without thanking him. Typical. “You’re headed to the café?” Haechan said sourly.

      “Yes.” Yoonoh answered. This was probably a sign for Haechan not to go yet he said, “I’m going there too, let’s not walk together.”

<<<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>>

      Taeyong’s hand was definitely fine. He was gripping the back of Yuta’s neck and pulling him closer, an impossible task because their limbs were already so entangled Yuta wasn’t sure where he ended and where Taeyong began. Yuta felt a little lightheaded, there was something he was supposed to ask Taeyong, but he couldn’t remember what it was. His shirt was somewhere in the room, Taeyong had thrown it so enthusiastically once he’d gotten it off of him. Every time he came up for breath and his thoughts cleared a little, Taeyong dove right back in. Yuta wasn’t complaining, but something kept bothering him. It came back to him when Taeyong’s hand, which was trailing down his stomach, traveled lower and he gasped, “Wait.” Taeyong stilled for a moment then pulled his hand back. “What’s wrong?” He breathed, kissing down Yuta’s cheek then pulling back a little to look at him.

      “You—we were talking.” Yuta stuttered. “You didn’t tell me what happened.”

      “Now?” Taeyong whined.

      “Yeah,” Yuta said. Getting up to find his shirt. He found it between Ten’s bed and the wall. When he pulled it on and looked at Taeyong from this side of the room, he found that his boyfriend was pouting with the comforter wrapped around his shoulders. Taeyong didn’t bother pulling his shirt back on.

      “Sit down.” Taeyong said. “And please let me finish before you jump to any conclusions.”

      “Okay…” Yuta said warily as he sat, keeping a safe distance away from Taeyong.

      “I had a crush on Yoonoh, before I met you.” Taeyong stopped when he saw Yuta’s raised eyebrows. “Don’t judge.”

      “Not judging, just slightly insulted.” He said and Taeyong laughed, which was a relief.

      “Well,” Taeyong continued. “I never acted upon my feelings and he never showed any interest, but I guess he knew all along or at least suspected. I guess I used to give him a lot of attention back then and he doesn’t like the change now that I’m over it.” Taeyong finished.

      Yuta took it in, “That’s it?” He said.

      “Well… He kind of thought I still wanted him so he… You saw what he did. He thought that this was the way to ‘get me back to normal’ or whatever.”

      “That little—” Taeyong cut him off.

      “Just let me deal with him, okay?”

      “Fine.” Yuta said. Taeyong’s phone rang; the alien ringtone filled the room, which made Yuta smile in spite of everything. Taeyong checked it for half a second before silencing it. “So,” He said. “What’s up?” they broke into laughter. Yuta told him that one of the players on the university’s team got injured and so Yuta might start playing soon. Taeyong celebrated the guy’s injury with him.

      “What about your major?” Taeyong asked. Yuta had never felt so blessed in his entire life.

      “I’ve decided not to change it.”

      “Really?”

      “I realized that my major was never really the problem, I just never had a career goal. After tutoring you, I realized I feel passionate about teaching.”

      “Uh,” Taeyong started. “You know you won’t end up making out with your students after class, right?”

      “What?” Yuta said, feigning shock. “Never mind then, I need to think of something else.” Making Taeyong push him down on the bed again. The alien ringtone started up again and Yuta asked, “Yoonoh?”

      “No,” Taeyong sighed. “It’s my mom.” He let the eerie music fill the space between them. The space between his eyebrows creasing while he thought. Yuta realized that Taeyong had never spoken to him about his family before. But he got vibes that they had a complicated relationship.

      “It could be important.” Yuta said.

      “Yeah,” Taeyong agreed without picking up. “Are there any good movies showing?” He asked Yuta, who knew he shouldn’t push it after the day Taeyong had had.

      “I hear Carpet Man is supposed to be really bad.” Yuta said.

      “Let’s go.” Taeyong smiled, putting his hand over Yuta’s in silent thanks.

<<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>>

      Mark wasn’t at the café. But Jisung was. Haechan found him talking urgently to Jeno. He caught a small part of Jisung’s sentence before his brother noticed him. “You need to stop discouraging him.” He’d said. Haechan was pretty sure he was the ‘him’ in this scenario. When Jisung saw him, he did the strangest thing: he ran.

      “NO RUNNING IN THE CAFÉ!” Jeno yelled. Haechan ran after Jisung and he yelled “SORRY JENO!”

      “NO YELLING EITHER!” Jeno yelled.

      Thankfully, Jisung ran outside and Haechan chased him without bothering his friend.

      “JISUNG STOP!” Haechan yelled, slowing to a stop. His brother just kept going until he disappeared from Haechan’s sight. He was catching his breath when his phone pinged, it was a text from Mark:

I am an idiot.

I miss you.

I hope you give me a second chance.

I miss you so much.

I’ll wait for you until I’m old and wrinkly.

I really really miss you.

Please let me explain.

I miss you.

I’m an idiot.

An idiot who misses you.

[received 5:05 PM]

      Okay so maybe Mark wasn’t as good of a writer as Haechan remembered him to be, but at least Haechan knew where he was going now.

      The front door was unlocked. Not very safe, but very Mark. Haechan let himself in. He found an unsuspecting Mark with a bed head, a gray cotton pajama shirt and blue plaid pajama pants lying on the living room couch, scrolling through his phone. He had his earphones in, which was why he didn’t move when Haechan walked in. Mark put the phone down next to him and closed his eyes. He was singing alone to the song he was listening to. _Cute._

      Haechan needed to pull himself together. He walked over to Mark. He thought he heard movement upstairs. _Had Mark’s grandparents returned?_ He wondered.

      But then he heard a laugh that sounded a lot like a dolphin. _Chenle? In Mark’s house?_

      Mark’s eyes flashed open when Haechan stood over him. At first he just blinked lazily, then realization struck and he pulled his earphones out of his ears and stood up.

      “Donghyuck.” He said, running a hand through his messy hair. “You’re here.”

      “Is that Chenle I heard upstairs?” Haechan asked.

      “I can explain.” Mark said, smiling more enthusiastically than the situation required.

      “That’s why I’m here.” Haechan was saying when he heard the front door open and his brother’s voice called out, “Jeno’s on our side now.” He walked into the living room as he explained. Not really looking at them. He seemed lost in his scheming.

      “Jisung.” Mark warned, but Jisung had already seen Haechan and froze like a frightened rabbit. He was closer to the window than he was to the door. Haechan watched panic register in Jisung’s face for a mere second before the boy opened the window and jumped out onto the backyard where he broke into a run. Haechan took a deep breath then he braced himself.

      “Sorry Mark, I’ve got to go. We’ll do this another time.” And he ran after his brother. By the time he caught up to Jisung the other boy was starting to slow down. Haechan tackled him to the ground.

      “Let me goooo!” Jisung thrashed around under Haechan’s weight.

      “Not before you tell me what’s going on. Why do you keep running from me?” Jisung stopped struggling, but he was currently acting like he wasn’t on the floor after getting chased by his brother. He was also pretending Haechan didn’t exist.

      “Jisung I’m sorry I haven’t called in so long.”

      “What?” Jisung asked, finally looking at Haechan.

      “That’s why you’re mad at me, right?”

      “I’m not mad at you!” He said and looked away again.

      “Then why do you keep running away?” No answer came. Haechan sighed then said, “If I get up, promise you won’t run again.”

      It took him a few moments to think but he finally nodded. Haechan sat up and Jisung followed. His brother was hugging his knees to his chest. He looked very upset, which naturally made Haechan’s protectiveness rise.

      “What is it?” He asked Jisung. “I promise you whatever it is that’s upsetting you, it will get better, just talk to me.” More silence followed. “Is it Chenle? Is he still with that girl?”

      “Her name is Alice and this has nothing to do with her.”

      “Okay.” Haechan said.

      “I’m the one who should be sorry.” Jisung said quietly after a while.

      “Why’s that?” Haechan asked.

      “It’s my fault. It’s all my fault.” He said, tightening his arms around his knees.

      “What’s all your fault?”     

      “I broke your heart.” Jisung said, his lower lip jutted out slightly. Haechan put his arm around his shoulder instinctively, but Jisung shrugged it off.

      “It’s all my fault, aren’t you listening?”

      “I am,” Haechan said. “But I still don’t know what you’re talking about.”

      “Remember when you called me? You told me that you suspected I liked Chenle right?”

      “I know you like Chenle—”

      “So after that, I started thinking about Alice and I ended up calling Chenle.

      “I had him on speaker, because I was typing and I was too lazy to grab my earphones. And…”

      “And?”

      “We were talking about you and Mark. Remember how you told me about asking Chenle to be held back a year rather than trying to catch up to him? Well I didn’t really mention that, but I was just asking Chenle his opinion on what you did, If it had worked, I mean and I didn’t realize…” He stared at the floor for a moment before he continued, looking up and facing Haechan. “You know mom is never home, she’s _never_ there.”

      Haechan was beyond confused, what did their mother have to do with any of this. “About that,” Haechan said. “I realized that what I did for Mark, I left you all alone. I’m so sor—”

      “Please stop apologizing. Just stop and listen.” Jisung said with an intensity that scared Haechan.

      “I’m—” He stopped himself before he apologized again. “Okay. Continue.”

      “Well, she was home. She was listening to our conversation.”

      “She knows about me.” Haechan said, realization dawning upon him.

      “Yeah.”

      “She didn’t even call…”

      “There’s more,” Jisung said and Haechan waited. “She kept asking me to tell her everything, but I wouldn’t say a word. The next day, she went to the school and looked at your exam papers. Then she talked to Mark. Yelled at him, actually. Chenle saw it all. She told him he was the reason you weren’t reaching your potential. That he held you back.”

      Everything suddenly clicked. It made perfect sense. “Jisung, this isn’t your fault.”

      “How can you say that?” Jisung demanded.

      “Because it isn’t,” Haechan said. “Mom shouldn’t have done that. I just hope they don’t start suspecting you, too.”

      “You’re not mad?” Jisung asked with wide eyes.

      “I’m really not.” Haechan reassured and ruffled his hair for good measure until Jisung smiled.

      “Are you going to talk to Mark now?”

      “Nah,” Haechan said, before Jisung would have time to stress again he said, “I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”

      Jisung nodded. “You should talk to Chenle, you know.” Haechan said.

      “About what?” Jisung asked. Haechan sighed.

<<<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>

      The movie, disappointingly, was not as bad as they expected it to be. Taeyong’s phone still lit up every hour or so. But he had silenced it.

      “Maybe you should get it,” Yuta said. “It could be important.” He repeated.

      “Okay.” Taeyong said. But he made sure to be out of Yuta’s earshot before answering. But Taeyong was yelling loudly enough for Yuta to hear everything.

      “Why’d you call if you had nothing new to say?” He demanded. “I’ll just get a job, I don’t need you. I never have. Stop calling me.”

      He hung up angrily and walked back to Yuta, “Let’s go.” He said with a sweet smile.

      “You’re just going to act like nothing happened?” Yuta asked.

      “Is that a problem?” Taeyong asked with a raised brow.

      Yuta answred, “Yes, it is.”

      “And why is that?” Taeyong was mad at Yuta now. This wasn’t happening.

      “Because I’m your boyfriend, aren’t we supposed to talk about these things?”

      “Just—just—” Taeyong ran his hand up Yuta’s arm.

      “Just kiss you?” Yuta said.

      “Yes.” Taeyong answered, completely missing the sarcasm.

      Yuta closed his eyes. “Is that all I am to you?” Yuta asked.

      “What? No, what are you talking about?”

      “Then talk to me.”

      “No.” Taeyong said.

      “You talk to Yoonoh,” Yuta mused. “Maybe you do prefer him, after all.”

      Shock was all over Taeyong’s face. Yuta’s throat burned when he left Taeyong behind.


	14. It Would Be Such A Romantic Ending To Their Story

      Haechan wasn’t going to wait until tomorrow to talk to Mark. After Jisung left, promising him that he and Chenle would leave Mark alone from now on, Haechan texted Mark back for the first time since they broke up:

Are you alone?

[sent 6:10]

      The reply was instant:

Yes!!!

So alone :(

[received 6:10]

      Haechan decided to double back to Mark’s house after making a stop at the dorms.

<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>> 

      Yuta wasn’t crying. He wasn’t upset. He wasn’t really feeling much of anything. If trash was a mood, then that would be what he was feeling. As soon as he walked into his dark room, he took off his shirt, his jeans, and then he climbed into the bed and pulled the comforter over his head. He could hear someone yelling outside the building, the sound was followed by a screech and laughter. He pulled the pillow around his ears to muffle the sounds of the students outside as he curled on his side. He tried to make his body as small as possible to release some of the building tightness in his chest.

      He didn’t know how long he stayed that way. But some time later, someone walked into the room. It was Ten.

      “You alright?” Ten asked and Yuta grunted. He hoped that would be enough for Ten to leave him alone. But his roommate walked over and tried to pull the covers off of him. However, Yuta had anticipated it and prepared for it by grabbing fist-fulls of the comforter and keeping it around him. “What the—” Ten said before straddling Yuta and pulling harder. All those years Yuta spent going to the gym and participating in sports were apparently useless because Ten managed to pull the covers along with Yuta attached to them so that he sat up in the bed and faced Ten angrily.

      “What’s wrong with you?” Ten asked, with an edge to his voice.

      “Why do you care?” Yuta asked. “I didn’t eat any of your food today, I know I didn’t so just back off.”

      Ten stared at him for a long time before saying, “No. Tell me what’s wrong with you?”

      “Nothing’s wrong with me.”

      “You had a fight with Taeyong.” Ten’s guess was confirmed by Yuta’s silence. Yuta stared at a tiny bit of thread that poked out of the comforter, his mind completely blank.

      “What did he do?” Ten said. For some reason Yuta’s heart squeezed at that.

      “Why did you assume it was him who did something wrong?” Yuta asked, meeting Ten’s eyes with difficulty.

      “Because the worst things you’ve ever managed to do in the entirety of our friendship was to take one bite out of our food and complain about your major crisis.” Ten said, getting up and off of Yuta in favor of sitting next to him. He nudged him with his shoulder and continued, “So, what did he do?”

      “I don’t think,” Yuta started. “I think,” He stopped again. “I think he didn’t take our relationship as seriously as I took it. I think he just wanted to fool around. I was stupid for thinking it was more than it actually was.” Ten didn’t say anything and Yuta felt the need to fill the silence, “It’s either that or he doesn’t think of me as someone capable of being a good partner, of listening to his problems and understanding them. He’s probably right, I haven’t given him reason to think otherwise.” The words tasted bitter as he said them, but the tightness in his chest loosened.

      “Okay, I’m going to stop you right there,” Ten said. Somehow managing to sound stern and kind at the same time. “From what I saw and what I heard from Yoonoh, Taeyong is all but obsessed with you? He even said he found it creepy how much Taeyong talked about you.”

      “He just wanted to sleep with me, he thinks I’m useless for anything other than sex.” Yuta said.

      “He what?” Ten asked, eyes flashing. “Did he say that?”

      “Yes, not in those words, but basically yes.”

      “Tell me exactly what happened.” Ten demanded and Yuta told him.

      When he finished, Ten looked unsure. He said, “You need to talk to him.”

      “Didn’t you hear what I just said?” Yuta asked. “He won’t talk to me.”

      “Make him.”

      “How?”

      Ten smirked and Yuta shoved him only to be shoved again.

      Haechan ran into the room his face painted with fear, “What’s wrong? Are you guys okay?”

      Yuta was on the floor being tickled by Ten and he supposed he sounded like he was being murdered to Haechan if the expression on his face was any indication.

      “Nothing,” Ten said innocently. “We’re cuddling.” And he wrapped his arms around Yuta who tried and failed to shove him off. He was definitely quitting working out. Haechan rolled his eyes, “I don’t want to know.” He said and walked out. Yuta whispered to Ten, “Don’t tell him about me and Taeyong.” Ten winked again, this time it was conspiratorially.

      “Come on, Haechan’s probably up to no good.”

They found Haechan in his room where he was… packing?

      “I’m moving in with Mark.” He said when he saw them stunned to silence.

      “He doesn’t know that I’m moving in with him, but I am. Tonight. It will just be for a little while, though, so I’ll be back before you guys even have a chance to miss me.”

      “Haechan…” Ten started.

      “Right. I know you’ll miss me the moment I walk out, but you’ll just have to deal with it for a while, let’s not make a scene now.” Haechan chided.

      “But…” Yuta said.

      “It was all a big misunderstanding.” Haechan said like that was an explanation.

      “He broke your heart!” Ten exclaimed.

      “Would you guys let me go in peace if I told you to just trust me.”

      “No.” Ten and Yuta said at the same time.

      Haechan’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, “Why didn’t you yell at him?” This was directed towards Ten. “He agreed with you.”

      “I like him today, now explain.”

      “Please don’t tell me you guys are a thing now.” Haechan said, which made Ten and Yuta fake smooch in front of him, wrapping their arms around each other until he begged them to stop. “Okay, okay I’ll explain while I pack. Just please stop groping each other, I’ll be scarred for life.”

      When he was done explaining, Ten looked at Yuta and said, “No wonder threatening Mark was so ineffective.”

“You threatened Mark?” Haechan asked.

      “Yes,” Yuta said. “It was surprisingly… depressing.”

      “He kept agreeing with us that he didn’t deserve you and agreed to staying away from you, it pretty much sucked,” Ten explained, twisting his mouth. “And I was really looking forward to it.”

      Haechan had finished packing and he slung the bag over his shoulder, “Right then,” He said. “I’m going.”    

      “Good luck.” Ten said.

      “I don’t need it.” Haechan said with a smile before going.

      “So,” Ten said. “Where were we?” Yuta backed away and said, “If you tickle me again, Ten, I swear I will stab you.”

      Ten rolled his eyes at the empty threat. “Can we get Doyoung involved? I can’t deal with you alone.”

      Yuta lowered his eyes, “I don’t want to bother you guys with this, it’s probably useless to pursue it.”   

      “Okay, I texted him while you spewed your nonsense.” Ten said.

      “Am I a good friend?” Yuta said and Ten’s eyes hardened.

      “Sit down,” He said. And Yuta did. “Remember in my first year when I had the brilliant idea of recreating some of Monet’s paintings using cereal boxes?” Yuta smiled. “You were the only person who was willing to help me cut up the boxes and paint them. You were also the only person who agreed to only eat cereal for every meal in the months that followed. You were the only student outside of the art department who walked around with paint in your hair during project weeks. That was because you were a good friend… a great friend.” Ten stopped for a while, Yuta needed some time too. Ten wasn’t the type to be serious about these things and he rarely expressed them to anyone much less Yuta. “Ten, I—”

      “No, let me finish,” Ten said. “You listen to me complain endlessly about the smallest things or fawn over artists you couldn’t care less about, you know about things you have no interest in because you listen when I talk to you and that means more to me than I could ever say. You were there for me when I thought I wasn’t good enough and helped me realize that I could achieve anything I wanted if I put in the work. I never thanked you for any of it and you didn’t mind, because you weren’t expecting me to thank you. You were just… being you. So now,” He made sure he had Yuta’s full attention. “Now, I’m going to be here for you, because you’re so important to us... to me.” He finished.

      “I don’t know what to say.” Yuta said. His heart felt full for the first time in his life.

      “You don’t have to say anything.” Ten said quietly.

      “Are you crying?”

      “What?” Ten asked. “No!” then he tackled Yuta.

      “Ten…” Yuta said.

      “Yeah?”

      “If you love and appreciate me so much why are you always fighting me?”

      Ten’s smile was razor sharp, “Because it’s fun.” Yuta frowned.

      “The truth is,” Ten said suddenly. “I’ve missed you, you know, since you started going out with Taeyong we haven’t been hanging out like we used to. That’s why I picked fights with you. Because I missed you.”

      “Oh.” Yuta had never known how to be serious with Ten so he said, “Can’t relate.” His back hit the ground hard and he was sure Ten was going to kill him had it not been for Doyoung’s interruption.

      “Break it off,” Doyoung said as he took a seat in the living room. “What did Taeyong do?” He asked. Yuta smiled despite everything. He thought that even if it didn’t work out with Taeyong at least now he knew that he had friends who had his back and loved him.

<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>> 

      Mark was waiting. Jisung never came back, but according to Chenle he texted him to tell Mark goodbye, even though he could have texted Mark directly. Chenle put a hand on Mark’s shoulder and said, “We’ve taught you everything you know. But sadly, all things must come to an end.” Before leaving. Mark didn’t say anything because he was more afraid of Jisung and Chenle than he would ever admit.

      So now, Mark waited. While he waited, he organized the house, ordered food in case Donghyuck was hungry, then organized the house again because it looked wrong to him now that it was quiet again. It’s been two hours since Donghyuck had texted him that he was coming over. Mark was pacing in front of the TV when the door opened. He ran towards it before he could remember to act cool. Jisung and Chenle would be very disappointed in him, not that he cared.

      “Hey.” Donghyuck said, coming in like they did this every day. Mark took him in; his hair still looked tousled from chasing Jisung earlier and there was a small leaf in it, he had a bag, which looked like it was about to explode from how full it was, slung over his shoulder. He walked past Mark and threw his bag near the living room couch, on which he half lay and half sat. Mark just followed, his mouth hanging open stupidly. He stood before Donghyuck, squeezing his brains for something to say, but the only thing he could think to say was, “Donghyuck.”

      “The one and only,” Donghyuck said. “So? You had something you wanted to say to me?”

      “Uh…” Mark said. _Stupid._

“Are you just going to waste my time?” Donghyuck said without heat, but Mark’s face burned regardless. He should remember what Chenle taught him about confidence; it was everything.

      “No,” He managed to say. “No, I’m not.” Mark saw that there was enough space for him to sit on the couch without touching Donghyuck, but instead he opted to sit on the space Donghyuck’s legs occupied. Donghyuck pulled them to his body before Mark’s butt landed on them and Mark scooted closer still.

      “This okay?” He asked Donghyuck, who eyed him through slitted eyes, his mouth was set as he hugged his legs to his chest.

      “It’s fine.” He said. “Speak.”

      “So you never caught up to Jisung, huh?” Mark said. He was stalling while the confidence Chenle tried to plant in him grew slowly.

      “No, I did.” Donghyuck said without elaborating.

      “Hmm…” His hands shook slightly, he had to do this right or he might end up losing Donghyuck for good.

      “I’m leaving.” Donghyuck announced, but before he could move Mark grabbed his calf, “I’ll talk just give me a second to organize my thoughts.” Mark didn’t think he was imagining the color that rose in Donghyuck’s cheeks as he eyed Mark’s hand around his leg. Mark pulled his hand back and Donghyuck looked away, suddenly finding the black TV screen very interesting. “Sorry.” Mark said.

      “Don’t be.”

      “No?” Mark asked.

      Donghyuck rolled his eyes before meeting Mark’s eyes, “Are you going to explain yourself?”

      “Yes. Okay. Yes.” Mark took a deep breath, let it out and started the speech he’d been practicing all week, “I’ve always known that you were too good for me. You were too smart, too funny, too witty, too lovable, too…” He paused, Donghyuck just stared at him so he continued. “But most of all I knew that the truth was that I wasn’t good enough for you. So that day, when you kissed Jeno’s cheek at lunch I really thought I meant nothing to you, I was so ready to believe it, because it was easier for me to believe that than to believe that _you_ could actually like me. But then you went to college and it was like life was showing me that I was right all along, that you were above me. But then we got together and I was so happy, I couldn’t believe it because it felt too good to be true. The morning after you spent the night here I went to school. I saw your mother there and she… She wasn’t happy with me. She thought—”

      Donghyuck interrupted, “Skip over this part, I already know it.”

      “You…” Mark blinked. “You what?”

      “I talked to Jisung, I know what happened.”

      “Then why did—”

      “Skip over the part with my mom and tell me the rest.” Donghyuck repeated.

      Mark swallowed and got up, “Uhm… the rest… okay.”

      “Where are you going?” Donghyuck demanded. Mark was halfway to the kitchen.

      “I just need to drink some water.” The truth was that he was suddenly panicking. Donghyuck knew, but he still wanted an explanation, which meant he probably thought what Mark did wasn’t forgivable based on what happened. He lifted the glass to his mouth, his hand shook slightly.

      “I’ll forgive you, you know.” Donghyuck said, his voice was close. He was standing behind him. Mark faced him and stuttered, “You will?”

      “Yeah,” Donghyuck said carelessly. “My mother is a terrifying woman, I understand why you freaked out.”

      “That wasn’t why—”

      Donghyuck smiled a little, “I know it wasn’t. So tell me.”

      Mark finally understood. “What she said about me holding you back, it just confirmed everything I was already insecure about,” Mark said. “So I felt like a disease, like a pest, like a—”

      “Mark, that’s enough similes for tonight.” And Mark laughed for the first time in a long time. It was easier to continue talking after that.

      “I thought the best thing to do was to stay away from you and the way I did it was all wrong, I know, Donghyuck you can’t imagine how sorry I am; I’m so so sorry and I know you might not be able to forgive me for what I did, but I will do everything in my power to gain your forgiveness. I hurt you that day,” His voice broke and he tried to hide it by speaking quickly, but he saw the change in Donghyuck’s features as they softened. “I hurt you and I’m sorry. I really thought I was doing the right thing when I ended it. But then Jisung told me that you didn’t hide your genius for me but that it was the opposite and I don’t know if I was worthy of that, but it changed everything. It was too late though, I had already lost you.”

      “You decided it was the right thing for me when you broke up with me.” Donghyuck said softly.

      “What?” Mark was caught off guard by the statement.

      “You decided,” Donghyuck repeated. “You didn’t ask me what I wanted, you just decided.”

      “I…” Mark said. “I did.” He swallowed with difficulty.

      “You’re so stupid.”

      “I’m—” Mark stopped talking because Donghyuck was advancing, closing the distance between them. He didn’t back away.

      “Promise me you won’t do that again.” Mark could feel Donghyuck’s breath on his face, that’s how close he was to him. His heart was beating so fast; he thought his ribs wouldn’t be able to keep it caged anymore. He was sure that it would burst right out of his chest if Donghyuck so much as touched him.

      “I promise.” He whispered.

      “Promise me that you’ll talk to me about things instead of just assuming whatever you want from now on.”

      “I promise.” Mark said again, his voice still wavered.

      “Good,” Donghyuck said before he backed away and walked to the living room. “Come on, you’ve had your water. We’re not done yet.”

      Now they sat facing each other with as much distance as the couch would allow between them. God knew Mark needed it to think. Donghyuck quirked a brow; he was waiting for Mark to say something. Mark blurted, “The shirtless mirror selfie was Chenle’s idea. Well, not the mirror selfie part, that was supposed to be a joke, but the shirtless in a towel part, he actually wanted me to lie on the bed while he took it, which was ridiculous and completely inappropriate. I really didn’t want to do it, you probably thought it was stupid as well.” He stopped before he could say anything else.

      Donghyuck just stared for a minute then he said, “As enlightening and disturbing as that was, I was actually waiting for you to ask me about something else that might be bothering you.”

      Mark knew what Donghyuck meant, but he didn’t want to think or talk about that. He didn’t want to think about Donghyuck making out with Jeno right in front of him. He didn’t want to talk about it because he didn’t feel like he had the right to talk about it. He had deserved it and much worse. But Donghyuck was looking at him expectantly.

      “Aren’t you hungry? I ordered us some food. I’m pretty sure it’s cold now, but I could heat it up.”

      “Mark.”

      “Do you like him?” Mark asked, not looking at Donghyuck.

      “He’s my friend, of course I like him.” Donghyuck answered.

      “I mean do you want to be with him?”

      “No, not in the way you mean, no.”

      “Okay.”

      “Okay?” Donghyuck asked. Of course he knew that wasn’t enough for Mark even though Mark tried to pretend that it was.

      “Fine,” Mark said. “I’m not okay with what happened. But I deserved it, didn’t I? We were broken up and it was my fault and I hurt you, so I deserved it.”

      “Jeno’s my friend, Mark.”

      “I know.”

      “He’s my friend and he was helping me, but you’re my best friend. So it hurts when you’re not honest with me. When you keep everything inside instead of talking to me. Two years ago I kissed Jeno’s cheek right after I kissed yours, not because I was taking back what I did, but because I thought that was the only way to keep my best friend, then you stopped talking to me and we became strangers for months. Then I changed my life for you, I tried to get you back but I ended up at fucking college, I lost my friends, I lost my brother, all for you—”

      “I didn’t know.” Mark said, desperation creeping into his voice. He felt very tired suddenly.

      Donghyuck sighed, trying to calm his breathing, “You’re right… I’m just so mad at everything that happened.”

      “I know,” Mark said again. “But we need to learn from our mistakes. So I just need to know… did it feel…” He couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence. But Donghyuck knew, because Donghyuck always knew.

      “I didn’t feel anything when I kissed him. It was the opposite of how it was with you.” A weight was lifted from Mark’s chest. He had no idea how much he needed to hear Donghyuck say that.

      “Donghyuck, I’m sorry.”

      “I’m sorry too.” Mark moved closer to Donghyuck, he ran a hand through the other boy’s hair, successfully dislodging the tiny leaf and showing it to him. Donghyuck’s jaw dropped theatrically and he picked it up with his index finger.

      Mark smiled, “Can we eat now?”

      Donghyuck said, “Yeah, we can eat now.”

<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>> 

      The food was still cold even after Mark microwaved it, but Haechan hardly noticed. His heart was hammering in his chest. He and Mark kept stealing glances at each other and giggling. It was so stupid and so perfect.

      “So, you really wrote a recipe on the exam paper, huh?” Mark asked.

      “A blueberry pie recipe,” Haechan said. “And in my defense, the answer to one of the questions was pi.” Mark choked on his food.

      When they were done eating, Mark cleared the table. Haechan was looking for his pajamas, which were at the very bottom of the bag, when Mark walked back into the living room, “You’re staying the night?”

      “When do your grandparents come back?” Haechan asked.

      “Next week.” A small smile tugged at Mark’s lips, and it turned into a full grin when Haechan said, “I’ll stay until then.”

      “Come on.” Mark said, heading for the stairs.

      “Actually, I’ll take the couch.” Haechan said and Mark’s face fell.

      “Oh.” The disappointment was clear in Mark’s voice.

      Haechan had to roll his eyes, “I need a little time is all.”

      “I understand, but I’d rather you took my bed and I took the couch.”

      “But the couch looks very uncomfortable.” Haechan said.

      “Exactly.” Mark said and Haechan sighed.

      “What about your grandparent’s room?”

      “They locked it.”

      “What? Why?” Haechan said. “Actually, never mind, I don’t want to know. I’ll just sleep on the floor in your room.” Haechan picked up his bag and went to Mark’s bathroom. When he was changed and ready to sleep, he walked into the room and found Mark lying down on the floor. He had laid out a blanket and gotten a pillow from somewhere, “Mine.” He said, spreading his arms over the blanket like Haechan was about to fight him for it. He skipped over Mark’s body and rolled onto the bed, stretching himself on the mattress. Mark then went to the bathroom, leaving Haechan alone for a few minutes. He rolled onto each side, trying to get comfortable on the unfamiliar bed. When he tried to adjust the pillow, he felt something underneath it. It was his clothes, the clothes he was wearing the last time he was here, they were folded under Mark’s pillow. When Mark opened the bathroom door, he saw Haechan sitting up in his bed and looking at the square of fabrics.

      “That’s—” Mark started, “Yeah, that’s pretty much what it looks like.”

      “What does it look like?” Haechan asked, he just wanted to hear it.

      “I missed you. A lot. I still do.”

      Haechan stared at him for a long time before pulling the covers and scooting to the left side of the bed, making room for Mark beside him. Mark approached the bed slowly; like he was worried he would scare Haechan away. Haechan put the clothes on the bedside table, “You won’t need these any more.” He said and faced Mark on his side.

      The room felt stifling with Mark here with him. He wanted to say something else, but he still wasn’t ready. Mark was eyeing his mouth, his cheeks bright, but he didn’t move. “The light’s still on.” Haechan commented.

      “Oh.” Mark said, getting up to turn the lights off. Haechan followed silently. When Mark flicked the switch, Haechan was there in front of him. “I missed you too,” Haechan said. It was easier to say it in the dark. He could hear Mark swallow. The moonlight coming in through the window was bright enough for Haechan to watch Mark’s Adam’s apple bob in the dim room.

      “You did?” Mark said. His thumb came up to trace Haechan’s lips.

      “Every day.” Haechan said, his lips falling open under Mark’s fingertip.

      Mark leaned closer. Before he could press his lips to Haechan’s, Haechan said, “I threw your pajamas in the trash.” Mark froze, cocking his head. Haechan continued. “Your underwear too.” He smiled proudly.

      “That was my favorite pair you stole.” Mark said.

      “Did you even know I stole your underwear before I just told you?”

      “No.” Mark admitted and he leaned in the rest of the way.

      Haechan’s arms came up to loop around Mark’s neck, his questions melted away when Mark’s lips met his own. Mark’s lips were softer than he remembered and he tried to commit the feeling to memory as they moved against his own. Mark pressed one soft kiss after another to Haechan’s lips. When Haechan finally had enough, he pushed Mark against the wall, which caused the light switch to turn back on as he deepened the kiss. He felt like he was burning from the inside, his heart was pounding and he wanted more. One of his hands crept up Mark’s nape until his fingers slipped through the soft strands there and he pulled, tilting Mark’s head slightly upwards as he kissed down his neck. Mark gasped and Haechan pulled back, both to smirk and to catch his breath.

      “So that’s why you wanted to take the couch.” Mark breathed, beating Haechan to the smirk. “Asshole.” Haechan said and he moved away from Mark. But Mark’s hands closed around both of Haechan’s wrists and he lifted Haechan’s hands, placing one in his hair and another on his face. “I didn’t mean I wanted you to stop.” Mark said, his mouth pouting invitingly.

      “Dork.” Haechan said, but his voice betrayed what he was feeling.

      “You love it.” And he did, so he kissed him again and pulled his body as close as he could to his own. Eventually they did have to stop. Haechan said, “I promised Yuta neither one of us would get pregnant.” to lighten the mood, but Mark’s face flushed impossibly red and he turned the lights off to hide it.

      Working out their entangled limbs under the covers was much easier this time around. Mark let out a satisfied sigh when wrapped his arms around Haechan. Haechan kissed each of his lids, then his cheeks before pressing his lips against Mark’s until Mark smiled.

      “I love you, Mark Lee.” Mark’s stilled for a second, his breath hitching audibly, before he said, “I love you too, Donghyuck.”

<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>> 

      Yuta was sitting at one of the picnic tables with Ten and Doyoung. They were talking about how Haechan would probably get what he wanted and end up in the same grade as Mark after all with his impressive amount of absences.

      “He still won’t fail,” Doyoung said. “The classes are child’s play to him.”

      “He could still fail intentionally. I believe in him.” Ten said.

      “I hope he does,” Yuta said “It would be such a romantic ending to their story.” Doyoung shot them both a disapproving glare, but didn’t comment.

      “Yuta, pssst.” Ten said, his eyes were moving strangely. Yuta frowned at him in confusion.

      “What are you doing? You look insane.” Yuta said.

      Ten’s lips twisted in distaste and he whispered, “Over there.” Yuta followed where Ten was looking and he saw Yoonoh and Sicheng occupying a table not too far from theirs.

      “Oh.”

      “Yeah, oh!” Ten mocked. “They’re staring at you.”

      “I don’t care.” Yuta said.

      “What did we say?” Doyoung said.

      “We said I was going to confront _Taeyong_ , not his sociopathic friends.”

      “I think they’re a package deal.” Ten said.

      “We are.” This was Yoonoh.

      “They’re behind me, aren’t they?” Yuta asked Ten who nodded.

      “Hello, Yoonoh,” Ten waved and smiled. “Nice black eyes.”

      “Can we talk?” Sicheng asked Yuta.

      Yuta forced a smile, “Sure.”

 

 

      The café was semi empty when they walked in. Yoonoh paid for their drinks, which shocked Yuta. Yuta made a mental note to ask Mark to check the cash register for any shortages before leaving today. The awkwardness was palpable as the three of them stared at each other and smiled politely between sips of coffee. Yoonoh’s smile was the most strained. He said, “How are you?” To Yuta and Yuta almost choked on his coffee.

      “I- I’m alright.” He sputtered. “And you?” He asked experimentally.

      “I’m okay.” Yoonoh said, using a soft tone, one Yuta had never heard him use before.

      “I’m feeling great, too, if anyone cares.” Sicheng said. They went back to their awkward silence after that.

      “Okay…” Sicheng said with an eyeroll in Yoonoh’s direction. “You guys need to sort things out if this is going to work.”

      “Sort what out?” Yuta asked Sicheng. Then he looked at Yoonoh, “As far as I’m concerned Taeyong and I are broken up. Now you two can finally be together.”

      “We can what?” Yoonoh asked. “Taeyong doesn’t like me that way, nor do I like him. What you saw, it wasn’t what you think it was.”

      “I know exactly what it was. Taeyong told me everything.” The last part was hard to say, because it wasn’t really true. But it wasn’t a lie in this situation.

      “If that were really the case, then you know that what I said was true.” Yoonoh said.

      “I’m sorry,” Yuta said. “But what’s the point of this? What’s the point of me talking to you two?”

      Sicheng gestured for Yoonoh to start talking, which he did, “The point,” Yoonoh said calmly. “is that you and I need to fix our… whatever it is between us, so that I can get my best friend back. Then hopefully you two will get back together and he’ll forgive me.”

      “He doesn’t want me.” Yuta said.

      “If you really think that then you’re the one who’s an idiot—” Sicheng’s grip on Yoonoh’s arm stopped him from finishing his sentence. Yoonoh took a calming breath then said, “He loves you.”

      “He can’t love me.”

      “But he does,” Yoonoh said, his teeth flashing. “All he talks about is you. How precious you are, how funny you are, how interesting, how kind, how perfect, how smart, how talen—”

      “Okay,” Yuta said. “I get it, okay.”

      Yoonoh sat back, his arms crossed. “But it doesn’t change anything,” Yuta said. “He doesn’t trust me, he doesn’t tell me things.”

      Yoonoh’s brows furrowed. “Things?” Sicheng asked.

      “Things about his life, his family. Things.” Yuta said. Yoonoh’s mouth hung slightly open for a few seconds before he bellowed the most obnoxious laugh Yuta had ever heard in his life. Sicheng, next to him, tried to cover his giggles with his fist. Yuta’s anger was rising, but he sat back and waited for them to explain with a raised brow.

      “Sorry,” Yoonoh said in a gasp. “It’s just so funny.”

      “Okay, I’m going.” Yuta said. The chair scratching loudly against the ground as he pushed it back. For a second, he thought he saw real panic in Yoonoh’s eyes, “No!” Yoonoh yelled. “No, just wait. I’ll explain just sit.” Yuta stared him down.

      “Please?” Yoonoh said. Yuta could see how difficult it was for him to say it, so he sat.

      “Okay,” Yoonoh started. “I’ve been friends with Taeyong since middle school. We were twelve when we met. He would talk about everything. Literally everything from conspiracy theories about aliens, to animal facts, to Star Wars trivia, to video games. But he would never, ever mention his family. That was the case until senior year of high school. Six years, Yuta. For six years he mentioned nothing to me about his family. And I was his closest friend.”

      “Did you ever,” Yuta started. “Ask?”

      “Many times,” Yoonoh smiled. “I asked so many times that at one point he stopped talking to me because of it. But I told him that I would stop asking as long as he promised that he would one day tell me one thing about his family. Just one. And do you know what he said?”

      “What?”

      “No.”

      “You’re not going to tell me?”

      “No, I’m saying that that was his answer. I asked him to promise and he said no.”

      “Oh,” Yuta said. “What did you say then?”

      “I said it was cool, just as long as we stayed friends.”

      “Huh.”

      “But he eventually talked. On his own, without me asking. It’s hard for him to trust people, but that’s not on you. If anything, he’s probably worried that you wouldn’t look at him the same way again,” He paused, like he wasn’t sure if what he said next would count as a betrayal to his friend. “He didn’t grow up in the best environment.”

      It was a lot to take in. Yuta didn’t know if he could do for Taeyong what Yoonoh had done for him. But he knew he wanted to try. Most of all he knew he wanted to talk to Taeyong now more than before he had had this conversation. But he found, that the hardest thing to take in was that Yoonoh was actually human under all the layers of idiocy and obnoxiousness.

      “Wow, Yoonoh, I had no idea you had brain cells.” Yuta heard himself saying. For a tense moment nobody moved. Then Sicheng broke into a high-pitched laugh. Yoonoh’s frown melted until a grin cut through his face and he shook his head at Yuta as his own laughter bubbled up. This time, it didn’t sound as obnoxious to Yuta’s ears.

      An hour later, they were still laughing and talking. Yuta forgot about his surroundings until he felt a heavy gaze on his profile. He turned towards the source and he found Haechan watching him with a betrayed expression on his face. “I’ll be right back.” Yuta told them.

      “What’s going on there? Are you in league with the Crime Squad now?” Haechan accused.

      Yuta ruffled his hair, “It’s okay, Haechanie, we’re all friends now.”

      “I don’t know you.” Haechan spat jokingly.

      “So?” Yuta asked suggestively tilting his head towards where Mark was and Haechan blushed. “Awwwww.” Yuta said, messing Haechan’s hair up until Haechan pushed him off and walked to Mark. Yuta noticed the way the two held hands like it was as natural as breathing to them. Before Yuta rejoined Yoonoh and Sicheng, he saw Jeno comment on Mark and Haechan’s entwined fingers. Then Jeno was pinching Mark’s cheeks. Yuta thought he heard him say, “I’m so proud of you!” to Mark while he cupped his cheeks, at which point Haechan pushed Jeno off of his boyfriend saying, “Okay that’s enough Jeno, get back to work.” And Mark laughed.

<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>> 

      Taeyong was in the dorm by himself. Well, Taeil was probably in his room, but that more or less meant that Taeyong was alone. He was having difficulty sleeping, which was bad because he needed to pay extra attention in his classes especially since he had a dance competition coming up. But he couldn’t pay attention to anything, because all he could think of was Yuta.

      When he came back to the dorm that night after Yuta left him, he found an anxious Yoonoh waiting for him. Yoonoh had apologized about a hundred times, begged for forgiveness. But all Taeyong could do was to clap him on the back and go to bed for a sleepless night.

      “You know Yoonoh loves you, right?” Sicheng had whispered into the darkness between their beds.

      “Yeah,” Taeyong turned on his side, his back to Sicheng. “Yeah, I know.”

      When he woke up this morning, Yoonoh and Sicheng had already left. They didn’t have any morning classes, so he wasn’t sure where they were. He didn’t care, though. He needed time to think. He wasn’t comfortable talking to Yuta about his family situation. But he might have to do it anyway. Especially if not talking about it meant losing him. He still remembered what it had been like the first time he confided in Yoonoh. His hands had shaken the whole way through and he’d regretted speaking the moment he was done. Though Yoonoh’s half-sympathetic half-mocking reaction made Taeyong able to laugh at his own family drama for the first time in his life. He wasn’t sure how Yuta would react. Would he judge him? Would he feel sorry for him? Would he think he was being overly dramatic?

 _Poor little rich boy,_ Yoonoh had called him. But then he’d shown solidarity and helped him whenever his family tried to manipulate him into doing something he didn’t want to do. Eventually, with the support, Taeyong had learned to fend for himself and to stand up to them. Which had resulted in them threatening to cut him off over and over again.

      When they somehow found out from the university that he was going to miss a final exam for the competition, they threatened to cut him off entirely. He very much doubted that they would stop paying for his tuition, especially since he was only at university because they forced him to go, once again, by threatening to throw him out. His choice of mechanical engineering as his major was an act of rebellion in its own right. The whole family consisted of doctors, and becoming an engineer was a huge step down from his parent’s perspective. It was a lot more bearable to them than if he had done what he really wanted to do, which was to dance professionally.

      Taeyong needed to work on a speech for Yuta. The first thing he needed to stress was that he was not in any way attracted to Yoonoh. The second was probably that he really liked Yuta and not just because he was incredibly hot. Then he needed to tell Yuta that it was hard for him to talk about his family, but that he would promise to try. Or should that be the first point for him to mention? Should he even talk about Yoonoh at all? Would the hot thing be offensive to Yuta after what happened between them?

      He sighed when he heard voices coming closer to the door. Yoonoh and Sicheng were back. He quickly googled “How to act normal in the midst of a personal crisis” But he had no time to read the results because with Yoonoh and Sicheng was… Yuta? And he was laughing and hanging off of Yoonoh’s shoulder?

      “What the fuck.” Taeyong said before he could stop himself.

      “Hey,” Yuta smiled at Taeyong. “Can we talk? Yoonoh promised not to interrupt this time.”

      Taeyong was dumbstruck, but he nodded. They were now in Taeyong’s room. Taeyong sat on his bed. He expected Yuta to sit on Sicheng’s, but he joined him.

      “I’m sorry,” Taeyong said. “I’m really bad at talking about myself, and my family in particular, but I promise to try… if you still want me to.”

      “I do,” Yuta said. “But I also want you to feel comfortable when you do.”

      This was not what Taeyong had expected, but neither was Yuta and Yoonoh walking into the living room like they were best pals. “I’m also sorry if I made you feel… like I was using you. I really wasn’t. I like you a lot, really, I do, I… value,” Taeyong cringed at his own choice of words. “You.” He finished lamely.

      Yuta _laughed_. He laughed at him and Taeyong felt his cheeks burn. “I value you too.” Yuta said and he ran his hand through Taeyong’s pink strands.

      “When’s the competition?” Yuta asked.

      “Next week. Will you be there?”

      “Of course.” Yuta said, still playing with his hair.

      “There was another thing I wanted to say,” Taeyong said, trying not to get distracted by Yuta’s attention. “I’m not into Yoonoh, like, not at all, not even a little.”

      “I know.” Yuta said, still smiling.

      “Okay…” Taeyong said. Yuta leaned in, like he was trying to kiss Taeyong.

      “Oh!” Taeyong said, suddenly remembering another point he planned to mention. “Also, we don’t have to kiss or touch or anything if you don’t want. I’d rather have you in my life as my friend than not at all.”

      Yuta cocked his head, his expression displeased. “No thanks.”

      “No?” Taeyong asked.

      “I want to be more than just your friend.” Yuta said.

      “Oh?”

      Yuta’s smile was blinding and Taeyong couldn’t resist the pull he felt until his lips found Yuta’s.

      “Do you think they left?” Taeyong asked.

      “They promised they would.”

      “How did you tame them?” Taeyong asked, his expression full of awe.

      Yuta hugged Taeyong closer and whispered, “I have my ways.”

      “My parents are rich,” Taeyong said into Yuta’s hair. “Disgustingly rich.”

      “Um.”

      “And when I was seven, I showed my mother a drawing of an alien I was really proud of and she took me to a psychiatrist.”

      “What?” Yuta pulled back to check if Taeyong was serious.

      “Then on my tenth birthday, they told me they were sending me to a boarding school in Europe and I cried for five hours straight until they changed their minds.”

      “Taeyong…” Taeyong actually laughed at the horror in Yuta’s eyes.

      “You still want to know?” Taeyong asked and Yuta nodded, which made Taeyong smile.

      By the time Yoonoh and Sicheng came back, carefully tiptoeing so as to not disturb whatever Yuta and Taeyong were up to, they were surprised to find that Taeyong was teaching Yuta the arts of playing League of Legends in the living room.

      “I know what Eight Rocks is now.” Yuta declared proudly flashing a smile.

      “He’s hopeless.” Yoonoh said.

      “He really is.” Taeyong said, eyeing Yuta like he was the most precious thing in the world.

      “Ew.” Sicheng said and he stole the computer from Yuta and started to properly teach him.

      Yoonoh sat by Taeyong and stole glances at him every now and then. Taeyong whispered, “Sorry about your nose.”

      “I had it coming.” Yoonoh admitted.

      “You did.” Taeyong smiled teasingly.

      “Are we good now?” Yoonoh asked, worry sneaking into his voice.

      “We’re good.” Taeyong said and he meant it.

      “I FUCKING MELTED, IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT.” Yuta yelled at Sicheng.

      “Relax,” Sicheng said nonchalantly. “You’ll respawn in a few seconds.”

      “I wouldn’t have had to if you hadn’t done that!” Yuta threw back.

      “You’re perfect for each other.” Yoonoh told Taeyong. Taeyong couldn’t help but agree.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's finally over uwu uwu uwu
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and commenting and leaving kudos uywgjhbjsadbkjasn <3 <3 <3 <3!!!!
> 
> Also I'm thinking of writing a couple of one shots for the other ships in the story, I wonder if you guys would be interested in reading those... :3 (If I ever did, I'll make this fic a series)

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading! Let me know what you think in the comments!!! ^__^  
>  Also, leave kudos if you liked it uwu <3!!  
> ————————————  
> Please remember to be kind to everyone, and never forget that that includes yourself <3  
> ————————————
> 
> My [twt](https://twitter.com/Spaceship0Mile)
> 
> And my [cc](https://curiouscat.me/Spaceship0Mile)


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